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WHAT  SCULPTURE  TO  SEE 
IN  EUROPE 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

PICTURES  AND  THEIR  PAINTERS 
The  History  of  Painting.  With  300 
Illustrations.  8vo.  #2.50  net. 

WHAT  PICTURES  TO  SEE  IN 
EUROPE  IN  ONE  SUMMER.  Illus- 
trated, iimo.  $i-3S  net. 

FAMOUS  PICTURES  OF  REAL 
BOYS  AND  GIRLS.  Over  50  Illus- 
trations. I2mo.  $1.25  net. 


Photograph  by  Gaetauo  Pedo,  Rome. 

Psyche.     Copy  of  Praxiteles.     Museum,  Naples. 


WHAT    SCULPTURE 
TO  SEE   IN  EUROPE 

BY 

LORINDA  MUNSON  BRYANT 

WITH  OVER  150  ILLUSTRATIONS 


LONDON  :   JOHN    LANE,    THE    BODLEY    HEAD 
NEW  YORK  :  JOHN   LANE  COMPANY     MCMXX 


Copyright,  1914,  By 
JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS  PRINTING  COMPANY 
207-217  West  Twenty-fifth  St.,  New  York 


TO 
THE  MEMORY 

OF  MY 
MOTHER  AND  FATHER 


INTRODUCTION 

POSSIBLY  there  are  no  collections  of  art  in 
•*•  Europe  where  the  general  tourist  needs  more 
careful  guiding  than  in  the  sculpture  galleries. 
This  is  due  first,  to  the  fragmentary  nature  of  the 
specimens  of  antique  sculpture,  and,  second,  to  the 
fact  that  very  few  of  the  fragments  are  originals 
of  the  great  masters  of  the  past. 

Then,  too,  the  general  tourist  in  a  sculpture  gal- 
lery gives  very  little  thought  to  the  marred  and 
broken  pieces  of  marble,  however  rare  the  work- 
manship, unless  special  points  of  value  are  brought 
to  the  attention  or  some  hint  given  as  to  their 
meaning  and  purpose. 

My  aim  in  this  book  is  to  arouse  an  interest  in 
masterpieces  even  if  broken  by  the  despoiler  or 
marred  by  the  restorer.  To  accomplish  this  I  have 
given  occasionally  the  historical  setting  of  some 
pieces  and  the  mythological  story  of  others;  such 
as  the  special  prowess  of  some  great  man  or  the 
sublime  power  of  a  Roman  matron;  the  biblical 
account  of  a  lawgiver  or  the  tender  beauty  of  sing- 
ing children. 

In  discussing  the  various  galleries  I  have  referred 
here  and  there  to  isolated  statues  which  are  sep- 


INTRODUCTION 

arated  from  their  original  groups,  hoping  thus  to 
present  to  the  tourist  a  complete  whole  of  the  ar- 
tist's conception  and  give  him  a  better  understand- 
ing of  the  great  masters. 

No  attempt  of  course  has  been  made  to  cover 
all  the  masterpieces,  but  simply  to  designate  a  few 
so  that  the  tourist  may  see  the  best  and  obtain 
a  working  basis  for  further  study  at  home  and 
abroad. 


[8] 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Naples 21 

II.  Naples  (continued) 30 

III.  Rome — Vatican 42 

IV.  Rome — Vatican  (continued)   .      .  52 
V.  Rome — Capitoline  Museum  ...  63 

VI.  Rome — National  Museum      .     ,.      .  70 

VII.  Rome — Miscellaneous       .      .      .  77 

VIII.  Florence— UffizI  Gallery  ....  85 

IX.  Florence — Michael  Angelo     ...  94 

X.  Florence — Bargello 100 

XI.  Florence — Miscellaneous         .      .      .107 

XII.  Venice 115 

XIII.  Munich 124 

XIV.  Berlin 134 

XV.  Paris — Louvre 144 

XVI.  Paris — Louvre   (continued)     .      .      .151 

[9] 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII.  Paris — Louvre  (concluded)        .      .160 

XVIII.  Paris — Miscellaneous     .      .      .      .169 

XIX.  London — British  Museum  .      .      .177 

XX.  London — Ancient  Sculpture,  British 

Museum  (continued)        .       .      .187 

XXI.  London — British  Museum,  Egyptian 

and  Assyrian  Sculpture   .       .       .196 

L'ENVOi 206 

INDEX 207 


[10] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Psyche    (Frontispiece).     Copy  of  Praxiteles. 
Museum,  Naples. 

FIG.  PAGE 

1. — Aphrodite  (Venus)  of  Capua.    Museum,  Na- 
ples   26 

2. — Farnese  Flora.  Museum,  Naples  .  .  .26 
3. — Hermes  in  Repose.  From  Herculaneum. 

Museum,  Naples       .         .  '  .         .27 

4. — Narcissus  Listening.  Museum,  Naples  .  .  27 
5. — Bust  of  Dionysos.  Museum,  Naples  .  .  30 
6. — The  Dead  Amazon.  Museum,  Naples  .  .  30 
7. — Archaistic  Pallas  Athena.  Museum,  Naples  31 
8.— The  Farnese  Bull.  By  Apollonios  and  Tau- 

riscos  of  Tralles.     Museum,  Naples  .         .31 
9. — The  Farnese  Hercules.    By  Glycon  the  Athe- 
nian.    Museum,  Naples    .         .         .         .36 
10. — Homer.     Museum,  Naples    .         .         .         .36 
11. — Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton.    Museum,  Na- 

Ples  .         .     36 

12. — Apollo  Belvedere.     Vatican,  Rome         .         .     42 
13. — Aphrodite  (Venus)  of  Cnidus.    (From  an  un- 

draped  cast.) 43 

14.— Aphrodite     (Venus)     of    Cnidus     (draped). 

After  Praxiteles.     Vatican,   Rome    .         .     43 
15. — Eros  from  Centocelle.    Vatican,  Rome  .         .     43 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

16. — Apollo  Sauroktonos.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  46 
17. — Pallas  Athena.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  .46 
18. — Zeus  Otriculi.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  .47 
19. — Meleager  and  Boar  Head.  Vatican,  Rome  .  47 
20. — Torso  del  Belvedere.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  52 
21. — Discus  Thrower,  after  Myron.  Vatican, 

Rome 52 

22. — Discus  Thrower.  Palazzi  Lancellotti,  Rome  52 
23. — Ganymede  and  the  Eagle.  Vatican,  Rome  .  53 
24. — Ariadne.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  ...  53 
25. — Laocoon.  Vatican,  Rome  .  .  .  .58 
26. — Boy  with  Goose,  after  Boethos.  Vatican, 

Rome 58 

27.— Nile.     Vatican,  Rome 58 

28. — Demosthenes.     Vatican,  Rome       .         .         .59 
29. — Augustus    Caesar.     Vatican,    Rome       .         .     59 
30. — Equestrian  Statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius.   Piazzi 

del  Campidoglio,  Rome     .         .         .         .62 

31. — Dying  Gaul.     Capitoline,  Rome  .         .         .62 
32. — Satyr,  "Marble  Faun,"  after  Praxiteles.   Capi- 
toline, Rome    ......     63 

33. — Capitoline  Aphrodite.     Capitoline,  Rome       .     63 
34. — Endymion.     Capitoline,  Rome       .         .         .68 
35  _The  Wolf.     Capitoline,  Rome      ...     68 
36. — Socrates.    Capitoline,  Rome  .         .         .         .69 

37. — Seated     Woman,     "Agrippina,"     Capitoline, 

Rome 69 

[12] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

38. — The  Birth  of  Aphrodite  (Venus).    National 

Museum,  Rome        .         .         .         .         .72 
39. — Medusa  Head.     National  Museum,  Rome     .     72 
40. — Galatian  Warrior  and  his  Dying  Wife.     Na- 
tional Museum,  Rome       .         .         .         .73 

41. — Ares  Ludovisi.  National  Museum,  Rome  .  73 
42. — Hera  (Juno)  Ludovisi.  National  Museum, 

Rome 76 

43. — Bronze  Pugilist.    National  Museum,  Rome  .     76 
44. — Kneeling  Youth  from  Subiaco.   National  Mu- 
seum, Rome     .         .         .         .         .         .76 

45. — Moses.      By  Michael  Angelo.      S.  Pietro  in 

Vincoli,  Rome 77 

46.— Fieri.     Michael    Angelo    (1475-1564).     St. 

Peter's,  Rome 80 

47. — Christ  on  the  Cross.    By  Michael  Angelo.  S. 

Maria  sopra  Minerva,  Rome    .         .         .80 
48. — The  Seven  Branched  Candlesticks.    Arch  of 

Titus,  Rome 81 

49. — Relief  of  Pig,  Sheep  and  Bull.  Roman  Forum, 

Rome 81 

50.— The  Prefect.  Roman  Forum,  Rome  .  .  84 
51. — Marsyas.  Lateran,  Rome  .  .  .  .84 
52. — Sophocles.  Lateran,  Rome  .  .  .  .84 
53. — Niobe  and  her  Daughter.  Uffizi,  Florence  .  85 
54. — Fleeing  Son  of  Niobe.  Uffizi,  Florence  .  85 
55.— Paedagog  (Niobe  Group).  Uffizi,  Florence  88 

[13] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


56.—  Venus  de'  Medici.  Uffizi,  Florence  .  .  88 
57.—  The  Wrestlers.  Uffizi,  Florence  ...  89 
58.  —  Slave  Sharpening  a  Knife.  Uffizi,  Florence  .  89 
59.—  Dog.  Uffizi,  Florence  .....  92 

60.  —  Perseus  with  the  Head  of  Medusa.    Benven- 

uto    Cellini    (1500-1570).      Piazza   della 
Signoria,  Florence     .         .         .         .         .96 

61.  —  David.     Michael    Angelo.     Academy,    Flor- 

ence         .......     96 

62.  —  Tomb  of  Giuliano  de'  Medici.     Michael  An- 

gelo.    New  Sacristy,  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence     96 

63.  —  Night    (detail).       Michael   Angelo.       New 

Sacristy,  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence  .         .         .97 

64.  —  Lorenzo  de'  Medici   (detail).     Michael  An- 

gelo.    New  Sacristy,  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence     98 

65.  —  Drunken    Bacchus.     Michael    Angelo.     Bar- 

gello,  Florence  .....  98 
66.—  Saint  George.  Donatello  (1386-1466).  Bar- 

gello,  Florence  .....  100 
67.  —  David.  Donatello.  Bargello,  Florence  .  100 
68.—  David.  Verrocchio  (1435-1488).  Bargello, 

Florence  .......  101 

69.—  Mercury.  Giovanni  da  Bologna  (1524-1608). 

Bargello   .......   101 

70.—  The  Sacrifice  of  Abraham.  Brunelleschi 

(1377-1446).  Bargello,  Florence  .  .  106 
71.—  The  Sacrifice  of  Abraham.  Ghiberti  (1378- 

1455).      Bargello,    Florence     .         .         .106 

[14] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

72. — The  Story  of  Abraham  (Fourth  Panel). 
Ghiberti.  East  Doors,  Baptistry  Gates, 
Florence 107 

73.— The  Story  of  Cain  and  Abel  (Second  Panel). 
Ghiberti.  East  Doors,  Paptistry  Gates, 
Florence 107 

74. — Zacharias  Naming  the  Little  St.  John.  An- 
drea Pisano  (1270-1345).  South  Doors, 
Baptistry,  Florence 110 

75. — Jubal  at  Tent  Door.  Giotto,  Campanile, 

Florence 110 

76. — Singing  Boys  (Lower  Panel).  Donatello. 

Cathedral  Museum,  Florence  .  .  .111 

77. — Singing  Boys  (Lower  Panel).  Luca  della 
Robbia  (1399-1482).  Cathedral  Museum, 
Florence Ill 

78.— Bambino.  Andrea  della  Robbia  (1435-1525). 

Innocenti,  Florence 114 

79. — Boy  with  Dolphin.  Verrocchio.   Palazzo  Vec- 

chio,  Florence 114 

80.— Bronze  Horses.   St.  Mark's  Cathedral,  Venice  115 
81. — Statue  of  Bartolomeo  Colleoni.    Verrocchio. 

Piazzi  of  San  Giovanni  e  Paolo,  Venice  .   120 

82.— Mercury.  Jacopo  Sansovino  (1487-1570). 

Loggietta,  Campanile,  Venice  .  .  .120 

83. — Lion  of  St.  Mark.  Column  in  Piazzetta,  Ven- 
ice .  120 

84. — Adam  and  Eve.   Doge's  Palace,  Venice  .         .121 

[15] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

85. — Greek  Lion.    Arsenal,  Venice      .         .         .121 
86. — Athena  and  Warriors.     East  Pediment,  Tem- 
ple of  Aigina.   Glyptothek,  Munich  .         .128 
87.— Fallen  Warrior.     West  Pediment,  Temple  of 

Aigina.  Glyptothek,  Munich  .  .  .128 
88.— Dying  Niobid.  Glyptothek,  Munich  .  .  128 
89.— "Ilioneus"  (Niobid).  Glyptothek,  Munich  .  129 
90. — Medusa  Rondanni.  Glyptothek,  Munich  .  129 
91. — Eirene  and  Plutus.  After  Cephisdotus.  Glyp- 
tothek, Munich 130 

92. — Silenos    and    Infant    Dionysos.     Glyptothek, 

Munich 130 

93. — Athlete  Dropping  Oil  into  his  Hand.     Glyp- 
tothek, Munich 131 

94.— Satyr,   "Barberini   Faun."    Glyptothek,   Mu- 
nich           131 

95. — Boy  with  Goose.  After  Boethos.   Glyptothek, 

Munich 132 

96. — Selene.    Pergamon  Marbles.    Pergamon  Mu- 
seum, Berlin 136 

97. — Dionysos.     Pergamon  Museum,  Berlin  .         .136 
98. — Bust  of  Aphrodite.   Pergamon  Museum,  Ber- 
lin     137 

99. — Athena,    Pergamon    Copy.     Pergamon    Mu- 
seum, Berlin     .         .         .         .         .         .140 

100. — Amazon.     After   Polycletos.     Old    Museum, 

Berlin 140 

101. — Boy  Praying.   Antiquarium,  Berlin         .         .141 

[16] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

102. — Boy  Found  in  the  Rhine.   Antiquarium,  Ber- 
lin     141 

103. — Victory  of  Samothrace.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  144 
104. — Venus  de  Milo.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  .145 
105. — Aphrodite  of  Aries.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .148 
106.— •" Apollo,"  Sauroktonos.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  148 
107.— Athena  of  Velletri.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  149 
108.— Aphrodite,  "Venus  Genetrix."  Louvre,  Paris  149 
109. — Warrior  Borghese.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  .150 
110. — Marsyas.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  .  .150 
111. — Artemis  of  Versailles.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .151 
112. — Torso  of  Satyr.  Copy  of  Praxiteles.  Louvre, 

Paris 151 

113.— Medusa  Head.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  .152 
114. — Pasdagog  and  Boy  (Niobid).  Louvre,  Paris  152 
115.— Ares,  "Borghese  Mars."  Louvre,  Paris  .  153 
116. — Silenos  and  Infant  Dionysos.  Louvre,  Paris  153 
117. — Hera  (Juno)  of  Samos.  Louvre,  Paris  .  153 
118. — Relief  from  Thasos.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .156 
119. — Maidens  from  East  Frieze  of  Parthenon. 

Louvre,  Paris 156 

120. — Dying     Slave.      Michael    Angelo.      Louvre, 

Paris 160 

121. — Fettered    Slave.     Michael    Angelo.     Louvre, 

Paris 160 

122. — Julius     Caesar.       Attributed     to    Donatello. 

Louvre,  Paris 161 

[17] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

123.— Le  Scribe.  Louvre,  Paris  .  .  .  .161 
124. — Cupid  and  Psyche.  Canova.  Louvre,  Paris  .  162 
125.— Joan  of  Arc.  Francois  Rude  (1784-1855). 

Louvre,  Paris 162 

126.— Joan   of   Arc.     Henri   Chapu    (1833-1891). 

Louvre,  Paris 168 

127. — Centaur  and  Lapith.     Antoine  Louis  Barye 

(1795-1875).     Louvre,  Paris  .         .        .168 

128. — The   Lion   and   the   Serpent,   Antoine   Louis 

Barye.     The  Tuileries  Gardens,   Paris     .  169 

129.— Florentine  Singer.     Paul  Dubois  (1829—?). 

Luxembourg,  Paris 169 

130. — Genius  Guarding  the  Secret  of  the  Tomb. 
Saint-Marceaux  (18 — ).  Luxembourg, 
Paris  .  .172 

131.— John  the  Baptist.     August  Rodin  (1840—). 

Luxembourg,  Paris  .         .         .         .         .172 

132.— The  Thinker.  Auguste  Rodin.  The  Pantheon, 

Paris 173 

133. — Gargoyle  Guarding  Paris.    Notre-Dame,  Paris  173 
134. — Athena  Medici.   Ecole  des  Beaux  Arts,  Paris  176 

135. — Le  Monument  des  Morts.     By  Albert  Bar- 

tholome.     Pere-Lachaise  Cemetery,  Paris  .  176 

136. — Demeter  of  Cnidus.    British  Museum,  London  177 

137. — Thanetos,  Alcestis,  and  Hermes.  Drum  of 
Column  from  Ephesus.  British  Museum, 
London  .  .  .  .  .  .  .177 

[18] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

138.-— Three  Fates  (?).    East  Pediment  of  Parthe- 
non.    British  Museum,  London         .         .182 

139. — Theseus.     East    Pediment    from    Parthenon. 

British  Museum,  London         .         .         .183 

140. — Cephissus.     West  Pediment  from  Parthenon. 

British  Museum,   London         .         .         .183 

141. — Procession   of   Youths.     North    Frieze    from 

Parthenon.     British  Museum,  London      .  186 

142. — Centaur  with  Lapith  Woman.    Metope  from 

Parthenon.     British  Museum,  London       .  186 

143. — Lapith    Attacking    Centaur.      Metope    from 

Parthenon.     British  Museum,  London       .  186 

144. — Caryatid.   From  Erechtheion,  Athens.   British 

Museum,  London 187 

145. — Mausolos.    From  Mausoleum  at  Halicarnas- 

sos.     British  Museum,  London         .         .187 

146. — Amazons  Fighting.   Mausoleum  Frieze.   Brit- 
ish Museum,  London       .         .         .         .190 

147. — Charioteer  from  Small  Frieze.    British  Mu- 
seum, London  .         .         .         .         ."        .190 

148. — Nereid  or  Sea-Nymph  from  Xanthos.   British 

Museum,  London 190 

149.— Frieze  of  the  "Harpy"  Tomb.    British  Mu- 
seum, London 191 

150. — Frieze   of    Cock    and    Hens    from    Xanthos. 

British  Museum,  London          .         .         .191 
151. — Marsyas.    British  Museum,  London       .         .194 

[19] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FIG.  PAGE 

152. — Boy  Extracting  Thorn  from  his  Foot.   British 

Museum,  London 194 

153. — Thothmes  III.,  Eighteenth  Dynasty  (about 
B.C.  1550),  Egypt.  British  Museum,  Lon- 
don   202 

154. — Rameses  II.,  Nineteenth  Dynasty  (B.C.  1333- 

1300),  Egypt.  British  Museum,  London  .  202 

155. — Ashur-nasir-pal  (B.C.  885),  Assyria.  British 

Museum,  London  .....  203 

156. — Colossal  Lion.  Assyria.  British  Museum, 

London .203 

157. — Assyrian  Lioness.  From  Palace  at  Nineveh. 

British  Museum,  London  .  .  .  206 

158. — Lion.  By  Landseer.  Trafalgar  Square,  Lon- 
don .  .  206 


[20] 


CHAPTER    I 
NAPLES 

/T"VHE  Museum  of  Naples  is  one  of  the  very  best 
•*•  in  which  to  begin  the  study  of  sculpture,  for  in 
it  are  found  fine  specimens  of  almost  every  age  of 
plastic  art.  There  are  some  of  the  rarest  bits  of 
Pergamon  work,  of  ancient  Greek  work  and  of  the 
exquisite  bronze  work,  the  latter  preserved  under 
the  lava  and  ashes  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii. 
In  fact,  two  hours  spent  on  the  typical  statues  in 
the  Naples  Museum  ought  to  waken  the  interest 
of  the  general  tourist  in  sculpture  and  make  him 
eager  to  follow  up  the  study  in  the  other  European 
galleries. 

One  of  the  daintiest  fragments  of  all  ancient 
art  is  that  of  "Psyche"  (frontispiece),  in  the 
Naples  Museum.  It  is  possibly  an  original  by 
Praxiteles,  and,  if  it  is,  we  are  specially  grateful  that 
the  restorer  has  kept  his  hands  off.  If  masters,  such 
as  Michael  Angelo  or  Rodin,  would  consent  to  re- 
store statues  that  time  and  vandalism  have  de- 
stroyed a  new  value  would  be  added  to  originals, 
but  unfortunately  only  men  who  fear  not  to  tread 
where  angels  trod  are  willing  to  lay  profane  hands 

[21] 


WHAT  '  SCtlLPTURE   TO    SEE 

oil  priceless  ttt&'sUres. ' '  Again  let  us  be  glad  that 
"Psyche  of  Capua"  has  been  left  just  as  it  was 
found — a  fragment  of  beauty. 

Never  has  Psyche,  as  typifying  "the  human 
soul,"  been  portrayed  with  greater  charm  than  in 
this  exquisite  bit  of  broken  marble.  The  gentle 
submission  in  the  bowed  head  of  the  tortured  god- 
dess, combined  with  her  subtle  beauty  of  face  and 
form,  remind  one  of  the  torments  of  a  penitent 
soul. 

Poor  Psyche,  her  marvellous  beauty  was.  indeed 
her  undoing!  She  was  the  youngest  of  three 
daughters  of  a  certain  king  and  queen,  and  was  so 
beautiful  that  even  Venus  was  envious.  In  her 
anger  the  goddess  of  beauty  determined  to  punish 
Psyche  for  her  presumption — how  dare  a  mortal 
vie  with  an  immortal  in  beauty!  But  Venus  was 
not  overwise  in  her  anger,  for  she  sent  her  son 
Cupid — the  mischievous  elf — to  inflict  the  punish- 
ment. But  when  Cupid  saw  Psyche,  instead  of 
obeying  his  mother's  commands  to  smite  her  with 
a  love  for  some  one  far  beneath  her,  he  wounded 
himself  with  his  own  arrows  and  determined  to 
wed  the  maiden,  though  she  were  a  mortal.  He 
put  his  wits  to  work  and  with  the  help  of  Zephyr 
and  his  own  power  of  being  invisible,  he  overcame 
all  obstacles  and  soon  had  his  beloved  in  a  magnifi- 
cent palace  on  a  mountain-top.  Here  all  went  well 
for  a  time,  but  at  last  Psyche  could  not  be  satisfied, 

[22] 


NAPLES 

though  every  wish  was  gratified,  save  that  of  see- 
ing her  husband  with  her  natural  eyes.  Her  sis- 
ters, who  were  brought  to  her  palace  by  Zephyr, 
were  envious  and  insisted  that  Psyche  tell  how  her 
husband  looked,  until  finally  she  confessed  that  she 
had  never  seen  him.  Then  they  poisoned  her  mind 
with  outrageous  tales  how  that  an  oracle  had  said 
her  husband  was  to  be  a  terrible  monster  who 
finally  would  eat  her.  They  advised  that  she 
secrete  a  sharp  knife  and  a  lamp,  and  that  when 
her  husband  was  asleep  she  might  light  her  lamp 
and  see  the  monster  herself,  and  then  cut  off  his 
head.  After  the  sisters  were  gone  home  Psyche 
was  so  filled  with  curiosity  that  she  decided  to 
carry  out  their  directions.  But  when  she  leaned 
over  to  look  at  her  husband,  in  her  surprise  at  his 
beauty  she  let  the  hot  oil  from  her  lamp  fall  on 
his  shoulder.  Cupid  opened  his  eyes  and  fixed 
them  on  her,  then,  without  a  word,  flew4  out  of  the 
window.  Psyche  tried  to  follow  but  only  fell  in 
the  dust.  Cupid  stopped  long  enough  to  say: 

"O  foolish  Psyche,  is  it  thus  you  repay  my  love  ? 
After  having  disobeyed  my  mother's  commands 
and  made  you  my  wife  will  you  think  me  a  monster 
and  cut  off  my  head?  But  go;  return  to  your  sis- 
ters whose  advice  you  seem  to  think  preferable  to 
mine.  I  inflict  no  other  punishment  than  to  leave 
you  forever.  Love  cannot  abide  with  suspicion." 
It  was  foolish  Psyche,  indeed !  She  wandered  for 

[23] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

years  performing  all  sorts  of  impossible  deeds  at 
the  bidding  of  Venus,  the  outraged  goddess  and 
indignant  mother,  but  at  last  through  the  interces- 
sion of  the  almighty  Zeus,  Venus  forgave  the  pre- 
sumptuous maiden,  and  Zeus,  handing  her  a  cup 
of  Ambrosia,  said: 

"Drink  this  Psyche,  and  be  immortal;  nor  shall 
Cupid  ever  break  away  from  the  knot  in  which  he 
is  tied,  but  these  nuptials  shall  be  perpetual."  The 
story  of  Cupid  and  Psyche  dates  from  the  second 
century  of  our  era.  Keats  says : 

"O  latest  born  and  loveliest  vision  far 
Of  all  Olympus'  faded  hierarchy." 

In  the  same  room  with  "Psyche"  is  "Aphrodite 
(Venus)  of  Capua"  (Fig.  i),  a  statue  made  after 
an  original  of  the  fifth  century  B.  C.  (Aphrodite 
is  the  Greek  name  and  Venus  the  Roman  name  of 
the  goddess  of  beauty  and  love.)  The  arms,  nose 
and  part  of  the  mantle  are  modern,  so  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  the  restoration,  especially  in  the  position  of 
the  arms,  shows  the  statue  as  it  was  originally. 
There  is  here  the  same  criticism  about  the  security 
of  the  drapery,  without  the  right  hand  grasping 
it,  that  applies  to  the  Louvre  statue.  The  pose  of 
the  "Aphrodite  of  Capua"  is  much  like  the  "Venus 
de  Milo"  (see  Fig.  104). 

The  sculptor  has  here  crowned  Aphrodite  with 
Juno's  diadem  and  placed  Athena's  helmet  under 

[24] 


NAPLES 

her  left  foot  as  evidence  that  the  goddess  of  beauty 
and  love  dared  take  precedence  over  the  queen  of 
the  gods  and  the  goddess  of  wisdom.  It  is  possible 
that  Aphrodite  had  some  cause  for  her  audacity 
for,  one  time  at  least,  Athena  showed  lack  of  wis- 
dom and  Juno  of  dignity.  It  was  in  this  wise: 
All  the  gods  were  invited  to  the  wedding  of  Peleus 
and  Thetis  except  Discord.  The  latter  was  so 
angry  at  this  slight  that  in  spite  she  threw  a  golden 
apple  among  the  guests  on  which  was  written, 
"For  the  Fairest."  Immediately  Juno,  Athena 
and  Aphrodite  each  claimed  it.  Zeus  was  too  wise 
to  try  to  decide  the  matter,  so  he  sent  the  three  con- 
testants to  Paris,  the  beautiful  shepherd  boy  on 
Mount  Ida.  When  the  goddesses  came  before 
him  they  each  offered  him  gifts: — Juno,  power  and 
riches;  Athena,  glory  and  renown  in  war;  and 
Aphrodite,  the  fairest  of  women  for  his  wife. 
Paris  gave  Aphrodite  the  golden  apple — and  thus 
began  the  Trojan  war! 

The  "Torso  of  Aphrodite'*  is  another  fragment 
of  Greek  original  work  of  about  the  fourth  cen- 
tury B.  C.  Possibly  it  was  done  during  the  time 
of  the  famous  Cnidian  Aphrodite  of  Praxiteles 
(see  page  44). 

The  "Farnese  Flora,"  more  correctly  Aphrodite 
(Fig.  2),  found  in  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  Rome, 
is  in  an  original  Greek  work.  The  torso  of  the 
statue  no  doubt  dates  from  the  fourth  century  B.  C., 

[25] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

but  the  head,  arms  and  feet  were  restored  by  artists 
of  the  sixteenth  century  and  probably  it  was  then 
changed  to  represent  the  goddess  Flora.  Nothing 
could  be  finer  than  the  proportions  of  the  beautiful 
body  under  the  clinging  transparent  robe.  The 
muscles  fairly  quiver,  they  are  so  alive  with  the 
pulsing  blood  hidden  under  the  velvety  skin. 

The  collection  of  bronzes  in  the  Naples  Museum 
is  the  finest  in  the  world.  Those  from  Hercula- 
neum — a  large  proportion  is  from  that  city — 
have  the  same  rich,  dark  black-green  colour  that 
they  had  when  buried  nearly  two  thousand  years 
ago;  while  those  from  Pompeii  are  a  light  bluish- 
green.  This  colour  variation  is  probably  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  former  city  was  buried  under 
mud  (  ?)  and  lava,  and  the  latter  under  a  light  ash 
deposit. 

The  statue  of  "Hermes  (Mercury)  in  Repose" 
(Fig.  3)  is  considered  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
bronze  statues  of  antiquity.  It  belongs  to  the 
school  of  Lysippus  of  the  fourth  century  B.  C. 
The  rich  dark  colour  of  the  bronze  enhances  the 
beauty  of  the  firm  slender  limbs  and  compact  body. 
There  is  not  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  on  the 
supple  muscles  and  the  perfect  proportion  of  every 
muscle,  tendon  and  joint  tells  the  story  that  this 
god  is  the  messenger  par  excellence.  How  rest- 
fully  at  rest  is  the  whole  body  of  the  god  and  yet 
how  quickly  he  would  spring  into  action!  Notice 

[26] 


NAPLES 

that  the  winged  shoes  have  the  buckles  on  the 
bottom  of  the  feet,  for  Mercury  never  walked, 
but  ran  on  his  toes,  if  he  was  not  gliding  through 
the  air. 

The  missions  performed  by  this  god  were  many 
and  varied.  As  he  now  sits  resting  he  is  probably 
just  returned  from  cutting  off  the  head  of  Argus. 
You  may  remember  that  as  usual  Juno  was  jealous 
of  her  husband  Zeus,  and  with  some  reason,  for 
he  had  been  flirting  with  lo,  and,  to  conceal  his  flir- 
tations from  his  watchful  spouse,  changed  the 
beautiful  lo  into  a  heifer.  But  Juno  was  not  to  be 
deceived;  she  began  at  once  to  admire  the  beautiful 
animal  and  insisted  on  having  it  as  her  own.  Of 
course  Zeus  could  not  refuse  and  Juno  then  put  the 
unfortunate  lo  under  the  care  of  the  hundred  eyed 
Argus.  Zeus,  in  his  distress,  sent  his  son,  Mercury, 
to  kill  Argus.  Mercury  not  only  put  on  his  winged 
shoes  but  his  winged  cap  and  carried  his  caduceus, 
a  rod  entwined  with  two  serpents  and  used  to  pro- 
duce sleep.  Now  Argus  never  slept  with  more  than 
two  eyes  at  a  time,  so  he  watched  the  heifer  day 
and  night.  When  Argus  saw  Mercury  coming,  as 
a  young  shepherd  blowing  his  pipes,  he  asked  him 
to  stay  with  him.  This  was  the  god's  opportunity; 
he  made  music,  and  told  stories  until  at  last  Argus 
went  to  sleep  with  all  his  eyes  and  when  his  head 
fell  forward  Mercury  cut  it  off  with  one  stroke  and 
sent  it  rolling  down  the  rocks.  Juno  put  the  eyes 

[27] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

on  the  tail  of  her  peacock — and  there  they  are  to- 
day. 

The  statue  of  "Narcissus"  (Fig.  4)  is  another 
ancient  bronze  of  rare  excellence.  The  god  stands 
in  an  easy  listening  attitude  all  untroubled  by  any 
longings  of  love.  How  beautiful  is  his  face  and 
form !  how  cruel  his  attitude  as  he  mocks  the  timid 
Echo !  and  how  just  was  his  punishment !  We  see 
him  moving  along  gaily  when,  missing  his  com- 
panions, he  stops,  he  calls,  "Who's  there?"  then 
listens  to  the  answer,  "Here,"  which  comes  back 
to  him,  but  no  one  appears.  Again  he  calls, 
"Come!"  But  the  answer  "Come!"  brings  no 
one.  Narcissus  is  curious.  He  shouts,  but  his 
question  is  simply  repeated.  This  is  too  much  for 
his  curiosity,  he  must  have  more  than  a  voice,  so 
he  urged,  "Let  us  join  one  another."  Timid  Echo 
came  closer,  but  when  Narcissus  saw  her — the 
maiden  doomed  to  speak  in  answer  only — he 
scorned  her  advances.  She,  poor  thing,  withdrew 
into  the  deep  recesses  of  the  wood,  pined  away 
and  died.  Now  only  a  faint  voice  lingers  to  remind 
us  of  the  maiden  who  insisted  on  the  last  word. 
But  Echo's  one  wish,  that  Narcissus  himself  should 
feel  the  pangs  of  unrequited  love,  was  fulfilled,  for 
later  he  fell  in  love  with  his  own  image  as  seen 
in  a  clear  mountain  stream,  and  he,  too,  died  of  a 
broken  heart,  and  the  dainty  Narcissus  flower  is  the 
reminder  of  his  fate. 


NAPLES 

The  bust  of  "Dionysos"  (Fig.  5)  was  for  a 
long  time  thought  to  be  that  of  Plato  until  a  gen- 
uine portrait  bust  was  found  of  that  philosopher. 
This  is  a  bronze  masterpiece  of  the  bearded  Indian 
Dionysos  or  Bacchus,  the  legendary  founder  of  the 
Satyric  drama  and  known  as  early  as  the  sixth  cen- 
tury B.  C.  The  bronze  head  was  found  at  Hercu- 
laneum.  There  is  no  finer  piece  of  bronze  work 
extant.  Every  detail  has  been  worked  out,  but 
with  no  detriment  to  the  big  and  noble  conception 
of  the  god  as  a  man  of  power.  Dionysos,  the  son 
of  Zeus  and  Semele,  was  not  only  the  god  of 
wine  but  he  promoted  civilisation,  made  laws  and 
loved  peace.  The  old  artists  always  represented 
him  as  a  manly  man  with  a  full  beard  and  full 
of  dignity.  It  was  only  when  wine  began  to  mean 
hilarity  and  unseemly  conduct  that  Dionysos  be- 
came the  uncontrolled  Bacchus  with  his  disregard 
of  law  and  order. 


[29] 


CHAPTER    II 
NAPLES  (Continued) 

\T7 E  will  now  go  to  the  small  room  devoted  to 
four  little  recumbent  statues  of  the  school 
of  Pergamon,  to  see  "The  Dead  Amazon"  (Fig. 
6) ,  a  figure  of  surpassing  grace  and  beauty.  These 
small  statues,  three  feet  in  length,  are  a  part  of 
a  gift  sent  by  King  Attalus  of  Pergamon  to  the 
Athenians  after  his  victory  over  the  Gauls  in  239 
B.  C.  There  were  four  groups  of  these  marble 
statues  set  up  on  the  south  wall  of  the  Acropolis, 
Athens,  representing  the  power  of  mind  over  brute 
force.  Pausanias  describes  them  as :  first,  the  con- 
test of  the  gods  and  giants;  second,  the  Athenians 
and  the  Amazons;  third,  the  Athenians  and  the 
Persians  at  Marathon;  and  last,  Attala  and  the 
Celts. 

These  small  statues,  in  Asia  Minor  marble,  are 
without  doubt  copies  of  older  bronze  works,  for 
their  smooth  surface  and  sharply  defined  folds  and 
hair,  as  well  as  their  small  size,  indicate  a  metal 
original.  It  is  probable  that  the  marble  copies 
were  made  in  Asia  Minor  for  exportation,  but  so 
far  no  bronze  originals  have  been  found  in  the  exca- 

[30] 


5.     Bust  of  Dionysos.1  Museum,  Naples. 


6.     The  Dead  Amazon.     Museum,  Naples. 


K 


NAPLES 

vations  at  Pergamon  (see  Pergamon  collection  at 
Berlin,  page  134). 

So  noble  is  the  attitude  and  exquisite  the  figure 
of  this  dead  female  warrior  that  we  are  not  sur- 
prised at  the  valour  attributed  to  her  and  her  sis- 
ters in  the  mythical  days  of  the  Hittites  and  the 
Greeks.  According  to  the  Greek  writers,  her  name, 
Amazon,  is  from  two  Greek  words  meaning  "with- 
out a  breast."  This  popular  etymology  came  from 
the  belief  that  the  right  breast  of  the  war-like  crea- 
tures was  removed  that  it  might  not  interfere  with 
her  use  of  the  bow  and  the  javelin.  In  Greek 
legend  these  women  warriors  lived  on  the  coast 
of  the  Black  Sea  and  in  the  Caucasus  Mountains; 
the  West  Indian  myths  place  them  in  South  Amer- 
ica; and  authorities  on  the  Hittites  say  that  the 
famous  legends  of  the  Amazons  give  the  chief 
evidence  in  classical  antiquity  of  the  influence  of 
that  people  in  Asia  Minor.  If  we  follow  the 
legendary  history  of  the  Amazon  female  warriors 
conquering  the  people  of  Asia  Minor  and  building 
famous  cities  on  the  ^Egean  Sea — Smyrna,  Ephe- 
sus,  etc. — we  will  find  that  it  is  really  the  history 
of  the  priestesses  of  the  Asiatic  goddess  MA,  whose 
cult  advanced  with  the  Hittite  armies  from  their 
ancient  capital,  Carchemish,  on  the  Euphrates,  to 
the  Mediterranean  Sea.  And  when,  later,  Ephesus 
came  into  the  hands  of  the  Greeks,  the  goddess 
became  the  Greek  Artemis  or  Diana. 

[30 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

We  know,  however,  that  there  was  no  more 
favourite  theme  with  the  Greek  sculptors  from  the 
fifth  century  B.  C.  than  the  story  of  the  Amazons 
and  their  contests;  and  King  Attalus  I,  of  Per- 
gamon,  certainly  showed  them  honour  when  he 
sent  this  beautiful  statue  to  Athens.  It  is  not  known 
when  these  four  statues — the  Amazon,  Typhaeus, 
a  Persian  warrior  and  a  Gaul  warrior — were 
brought  to  Italy,  but  it  could  not  have  been  before 
the  capture  of  Athens  by  the  Crusaders  in  1205. 

An  ancient  statue  of  special  interest  is  that  of 
"Pallas  Athena"  (Fig.  7),  considered  one  of  the 
finest  archaic  statues  extant.  The  stiff  straight 
folds  of  her  double  mantle  accord  well  with  the 
dignity  of  her  office  of  fighter  or  champion  of  an 
army  or  people.  Across  her  left  arm  is  hung  the 
^Egis  or  shield  given  her  by  her  father  Zeus  (Ju- 
piter or  Jove).  This  defensive  armour  was  said 
to  have  been  originally  the  skin  of  the  goat  Amal- 
tha,  the  foster-mother  of  Zeus,  allegorically  the 
storm-cloud  around  the  thunderbolt,  and  this  ar- 
mour became  the  scaly  cloak  or  mantle  bordered 
with  serpents  and  Medusa's  head.  Athena's  helmet 
is  adorned  with  a  crouching  gryphon,  the  emblem 
of  vigilance. 

Athens  was  named  for  Athena,  the  goddess  of 
wisdom,  and  her  oldest  image,  according  to  tra- 
dition, fell  from  heaven  before  historic  time  and 
was  worshipped  in  her  ancient  temple  on  the  Acrop- 

[32] 


NAPLES 

olis.  All  this  honour  was  none  too  great  for  one 
who  sprang  fully  armed  from  the  head  of  the  great 
Zeus,  and  the  Athenians  proved  it  when  they  dedi- 
cated that  most  beautiful  of  all  temples — the  Par- 
thenon— to  her  (see  British  Museum,  page  181), 
and  enshrined  her  image  in  its  holy  of  holies. 

But  Athena  was  not  always  kind  in  her  wisdom. 
We  know  that  her  contest  with  Neptune  brought 
wealth  to  Athens  (see  page  183),  but  was  it  a 
blessing  when  she  changed  Arachne  to  a  spider? 
Foolish  Arachne !  In  her  pride  over  her  beautiful 
tapestries  and  embroidery  she  thought  a  mortal 
could  contest  with  a  goddess,  and  cried, 

"Let  Athena  (Minerva)  try  her  skill  with  mine; 
if  beaten  I  will  pay  the  penalty."  This  boasting 
angered  Athena,  but  she  gave  the  headstrong  girl 
a  chance  to  save  herself.  She  went  to  her,  disguised 
as  an  old  woman,  and  in  a  friendly  tone,  said, 

"I  have  had  much  experience  and  I  hope  you  will 
not  despise  my  counsel.  Challenge  your  fellow 
mortals  as  you  will,  but  do  not  compete  with  a 
goddess.  I  advise  you  to  ask  her  forgiveness  for 
what  you  have  said  and,  as  she  is  merciful,  perhaps 
she  will  pardon  you." 

"Keep  your  counsel  for  your  daughters  or  hand- 
maids," cried  the  blinded  Arachne,  "for  my  part 
I  know  what  I  say  and  stand  to  it.  I  am  not  afraid 
of  the  goddess;  let  her  try  her  skill  if  she  dare 
venture." 

[33] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

"She  comes,"  said  Athena,  as  she  dropped  her 
disguise.  Arachne  was  undaunted,  though  the 
nymphs  and  bystanders  trembled  with  terror.  The 
place  of  the  contest  was  arranged  and  the  weaving 
began.  Athena  wrought  on  her  web  her  victory 
over  Neptune,  while  Arachne  chose  subjects  for  her 
web  to  show  the  failings  of  the  gods  and  goddesses. 
So  wonderful  and  lifelike  were  the  scenes  Arachne 
wrought  that  even  Athena  admired;  yet  in  her  jeal- 
ous anger  she  struck  the  web  and  rent  it  in  pieces 
and  touched  the  forehead  of  the  boastful,  girl  to 
make  her  feel  her  guilt  and  shame.  Then  Arachne 
repented  and  went  and  hanged  herself.  When 
Athena  saw  her  hanging  limp  and  all  but  lifeless 
she  cried, 

"Live,  guilty  woman — and  that  you  may  pre- 
serve the  memory  of  this  lesson,  continue  to  hang, 
both  you  and  your  descendants,  to  all  future  time." 
And  the  spider  still  hangs  by  the  thread  of  her 
own  spinning. 

"The  Farnese  Bull"  (Fig.  8)  is  a  group  made 
by  the  brothers  Apollonius  and  Thauricus,  about 
100  B.  C.  The  mighty  struggle  of  the  sons  of 
Zeus  and  Antiope  to  hold  the  ferocious  animal 
while  they  bind  the  cruel  Queen  Dirce  to  his  horns 
is  wonderful  in  its  illustration  of  the  superiority  of 
human  strength  over  brute  force.  The  artist  has 
condensed  into  the  forms  of  the  noble  youths  the 
whole  story  of  the  injured  mother  and  their  intense 

[34] 


NAPLES 

desire  for  righteous  revenge.  We  almost  forget 
that  the  story  of  Antiope  is  only  a  myth  and  that 
the  young  men  never  lived,  so  anxious  are  we  that 
the  bull  should  assist  in  inflicting  punishment. 
Poor  Antiope,  so  the  myth  runs,  had  to  flee  from 
the  anger  of  her  husband,  Lycus,  the  usurping  king 
of  Thebes,  and  when  her  twin  sons  were  born 
she  left  them  on  Mount  Cithaeron  to  be  brought 
up  by  the  shepherds.  She  was  treated  very  cruelly 
by  Lycus  and  was  finally  made  the  slave  of  his 
wife  Dirce,  but  Antiope  fled  from  the  hated  bond- 
age and  came  again  to  the  place  where  her  sons 
were  born.  As  fate  would  have  it,  Queen  Dirce 
soon  arrived  to  celebrate  a  festival  occasion  and 
recognised  her  former  slave.  She  called  for  the 
sons,  who  had  grown  to  manhood  and  were  her 
devoted  followers,  and  commanded  them  to  tie 
their  unknown  mother  to  the  horns  of  the  bull. 
But  just  as  they  were  carrying  out  Queen  Dirce's 
commands  the  shepherds  told  them  the  story  of 
their  birth,  and  that  the  woman  they  were  so  cruelly 
treating  was  their  mother.  When  Amphion  and 
Zethus  learned  the  truth  they  turned  upon  the 
cruel  queen  and  tied  her  to  the  horns  of  the  bull, 
as  she  had  ordered  their  mother  to  be  tied.  Pliny 
mentions  this  group  as  carved  from  one  piece 
of  marble;  either  he  is  wrong  or  he  means  merely 
one  continuous  piece  of  marble,  as  several  blocks 
are  joined  together.  The  group  was  found  in  a 

[35] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

badly  ruined  condition  in  the  Baths  of  Caracalla, 
Rome,  in  1546;  it  had  been  brought  from  Rhodes 
to  Rome  about  A.  D.  4.  Evidently  it  was  intended 
for  an  open  place,  for  it  is  finished  with  equal  care 
on  all  sides. 

When  the  "Farnese  Hercules"  (Fig.  9),  a 
famous  statue  brought  from  Athens  to  Rome  by 
Caracalla,  was  found  in  his  baths  in  1540,  it  was 
without  legs.  Cardinal  Farnese  requested  Michael 
Angelo  to  restore  them,  but  he  refused,  saying  that 
he  was  not  worthy  to  make  even  a  finger  for  so 
grand  a  statue,  so  the  sculptor  Delia  Porta  made 
the  restoration.  Twenty  years  later  the  original 
legs  were  found  in  a  well  of  the  Villa  Borghese 
and  the  ancient  statue  was  then  restored  to  its 
pristine  perfection  and  the  new  legs  placed  in  the 
Villa  Museum.  The  signature  on  the  statue  of 
Hercules  shows  that  it  was  made  by  Glycon,  of 
Athens,  of  the  school  of  Polycletus,  about  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Christian  era.  The  statue  is  no 
doubt  a  copy  of  an  older  type,  where  strength  and 
bodily  proportions  were  the  main  points  of  per- 
fection. 

The  ancient  hero  is  resting  on  his  club  after 
performing  the  eleventh  labour  of  obtaining  the 
golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides  that  he  holds  in 
his  right  hand.  The  stories  of  the  wonderful  ex- 
ploits of  this  Grecian  hero  are  so  real  that  it 
seems  possible  that  such  a  youth  as  Hercules  did 

[36] 


~  - 
.C  S 


NAPLES 

live.    One  never  tires  of  hearing  about  the  twelve 
labours : — 

"The  Nemean  lion  first  he  killed,  then  Lerne's  hydra 

slew; 
The  Arcadian  stag  and  monster  boar  before  Eurystheus 

drew  ; 
Cleansed  Augeas'  stalls,  and  made  the  birds  from  lake 

Stymphalis  flee; 
The  Cretan  bull,  and  Thracian  mares,  first  seized  and 

then  set  free; 
Took  prize  the  Amazonian  belt,  brought  Geryon  kine 

from  Gades; 
Fetched    apples    from    Hesperides    and    Cerberos    from 

Hades." 

Another  statue  of  Greek  style  and  great  merit 
is  the  "Farnese  Gladiator."  The  agony  of  pain 
and  defeat  is  upon  him.  His  open  lips  and  filmy 
eyes  show  that  the  end  is  hear;  and  his  trembling 
legs  warn  us  to  stand  askle,  for  in  another  instant 
his  strength  will  fail  and  his  lifeless  body  will 
fall  before  us. 

One  of  the  finest  ideal  portraits  of  a  man  whom 
many  critics  believe  did  live,  is  that  of  "Homer" 
(Fig.  10).  One  wonders  how  it  was  possible  for 
an  artist  to  conceive  so  noble  a  head  of  the  blind 
poet  and  minstrel.  The  lift  of  the  eyebrows  and 
the  wide  open  lids  with  eyeballs  turned  toward 
heaven  and  face  slightly  raised  tell  plainly  that  the 
seeing  mind  has  visions  greater  than  those  of  mere 
physical  sight.  The  wrinkled  forehead,  shrunken 

[37] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

cheeks  and  parted  lips  show  that  years  of  eager 
thought  have  brought  serenity  of  mind  and  quiet- 
ness of  body.  Enthusiasm  still  lingers,  but  the 
wisdom  of  age  guides  it  to  fruition.  One  can  well 
understand  how  such  a  man  could  make  the  story 
of  ancient  Troy  live  for  us  in  the  Iliad,  and  the 
travels  of  Ulysses  a  reality  in  the  Odyssey.  The 
bust  was  found  in  the  Theatre  of  Herculaneum, 
but  no  hint  is  given  as  to  the  artist  who  made  it. 

Among  the  really  genuine  portraits  of  the  Ro- 
man Emperor  Julius  Caesar  is  the  fine  colossal  bust 
in  the  Corridor  of  the  Roman  Emperors.  This 
bust  is  said  to  be  the  one  selected  by  Napoleon 
III  for  the  frontispiece  of  his  "Life  of  Caesar." 

Also  the  statue  of  "Caligula"  is  probably  the 
most  authentic  of  any  portrait  of  that  inhuman 
monster.  This  emperor  was  so  savage  and  vin- 
dictive that  he  was  wont  to  exclaim  in  his  parox- 
ysms of  rage,  "Would  that  the  Roman  people  had 
only  one  head."  The  Emperor  Caligula's  real 
name  was  Caius  Caesar — Caligula  was  a  nickname 
from  the  foot-gear  worn  by  the  common  soldiers 
that  young  Caius  used  to  wear  when  he  followed 
the  army  as  a  boy. 

We  might  say  of  the  statues  of  "Harmodios  and 
Aristogeiton"  (Fig.  u),  that  they  not  only  stand 
as  a  connecting  link  between  the  early  Attic  school, 
which  combined  all  that  was  best  of  the  Doric  and 
Ionic  schools  and  the  later  school  of  Pheidias  and 

[38] 


NAPLES 

Praxiteles,  but  that  the  stories  of  their  vicissitudes 
explain,  in  a  measure,  the  reason  why  there  are  so 
few  original  Greek  works  in  the  museums  of  Eu- 
rope, and  those  mostly  in  fragments. 

During  the  Persian  invasion  in  480  B.  C. 
Xerxes,  with  his  great  army,  swept  over  Greece, 
destroying  everything  before  him.  No  city  was 
more  completely  demolished  than  Athens;  walls, 
temples  and  works  of  art  were  thrown  down,  re- 
gardless of  artistic  value  or  beauty  of  workman- 
ship. Fortunately,  however,  when  Xerxes  saw  the 
original  statues  of  "Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton" 
standing  in  the  market-place  of  Athens  he  was  so 
delighted  with  them  that  he  carried*  them  away  to 
the  Far  East.  There  they  remained  until  Alexan- 
der's time,  more  than  a  century  later,  when  that 
great  ruler  returned  them  to  Greece. 

In  the  meantime  the  Athenians  had  returned  to 
their  all  but  ruined  city  and,  with  the  vigour  of 
artistic  youth  still  upon  them,  found  it  easier  to 
build  new  than  to  repair.  The  materials  of  the 
overthrown  temples  and  broken  statues  were  sim- 
ply debris  to  them,  so  the  stones,  marbles,  terra- 
cottas and  bronzes,  and  the  broken  statues,  friezes, 
metopes  and  vases  were  thrown  in  together  to 
make  a  foundation  for  the  new  Acropolis,  and  new 
temples  and  new  statues  took  the  place  of  the  old. 
It  is  this  foundation  that  is  yielding  untold  treas- 
ures since  1885,  when  was  begun  the  great  work 

[39] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

of  uncovering  the  hill  of  the  Acropolis  down  to 
the  very  living  crystalline  limestone  rock. 

It  is  not  strange  that  among  the  new  statues, 
made  by  the  returned  Athenians,  were  copies  of 
the  "martyrs  for  liberty,  Harmodios  and  Aristogei- 
ton." The  original  bronze  group  was  made  by  the 
artist  Antenor,  about  510  B.  C.,  and  the  copy — 
Antenor  being  dead — by  his  pupils  (probably), 
Critius  and  Nesiotes,  shortly  after  480  B.  C.  It 
is  not  likely  that  the  later  group  was  an  exact 
copy,  though  essentially  the  same,  but  was  no 
doubt  in  bronze.  During  the  days  of  Pausanias, 
the  second  century  A.  D.,  the  two  groups,  the  one 
carried  away  by  Xerxes  and  the  new  one,  seem 
to  have  stood  side  by  side  in  the  market-place. 

Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton  stand  in  history  as 
the  liberators  of  Athens  from  the  rule  of  the  tyrants 
Hipparchus  and  Hippias,  the  sons  of  Pisistratus, 
who  usurped  supreme  power  in  Athens  in  560  B.  C. 
Hipparchus,  the  tyrant,  was  jealous  of  the  love  of 
the  beautiful  youth  Harmodios  for  his  older  friend 
Aristogeiton,  and  to  humiliate  him  (Harmodios) 
he  refused  to  let  his  sister  bear  the  sacred  basket 
in  the  Athenian  festival.  This  insult  infuriated 
the  two  friends  and,  determined  to  have  vengeance, 
they  plotted  to  slay  the  tyrants,  Hipparchus  and 
Hippias,  on  the  day  of  the  festival.  Through  an 
immature  attack  only  the  tyrant  Hipparchus  was 
killed,  but  Harmodios  also  was  slain  and  Aristogei- 

[40] 


NAPLES 

ton  taken  prisoner.  The  latter  was  put  to  the 
torture  but  took  revenge  by  renouncing  the  friends 
of  the  tyrant  Hippias  as  belonging  to  the  con- 
spiracy. This  did  not  save  the  life  of  Aristogeiton, 
but  it  was  the  means  of  the  overthrow  of  Hippias 
and  the  final  freedom  of  the  city  from  the  hated 
rule  of  the  Pisistratidae. 

The  Naples  marble  statues  of  Harmodios  and 
Aristogeiton  are  copies  of  one  or  other  of  the 
bronze  groups  seen  by  Pausanias.  Lucian,  a  keen, 
critical  writer  of  the  second  century  A.  D.,  says  of 
the  sculptors  Critius  and  Nesiotes  that  their  style 
is  "concise  and  sinewy  and  hard,  and  exact  and 
strained  in  their  lines,"  and  such  a  criticism  would 
apply  to  these  copies  in  marble.  Yet  look  how 
well  the  impetuous  strength  and  youthful  vigour 
of  Harmodios,  with  his  expression  of  honest  boy- 
ish anger  in  behalf  of  his  insulted  sister,  is  offset 
by  the  calmer  though  none-the-less  righteous  wrath 
of  his  older  friend.  Harmodios  has  his  right  arm 
upraised  ready  to  strike,  while  Aristogeiton  wards 
off  an  attack  on  his  young  friend  with  his  extended 
left  arm  and  holds  his  right  ready  for  action. 
The  original  bearded  head  of  Aristogeiton  was  lost 
and  the  present  more  youthful  one  was  added. 
Pliny  says  the  artists  Critius  and  Nesiotes  were 
rivals  of  Pheidias,  but  this  can  hardly  be  true,  as 
they  were  much  older  men. 


CHAPTER    III 
ROME— VATICAN 

WITHOUT  question  the  most  celebrated 
statue  in  Rome  is  the  "Apollo  Belvedere" 
(Fig.  12).  This  statue  was  found  at  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century  during  excavations  at  Antium, 
the  seashore  resort  of  the  Roman  emperors,,  espe- 
cially Caligula  and  Nero.  The  statue  was  fairly 
intact,  except  for  the  fingers  of  the  right  hand  and 
the  hand  and  wrist  of  the  left  arm,  but  more 
controversy  has  raged  over  the  restoration  of  those 
parts  than  over  that  of  any  other  statue,  unless 
it  be  the  Venus  de  Milo  (Fig.  104) . 

Until  about  sixty  years  ago,  critics  were  fairly 
agreed  that  the  god  had  just  let  fly  an  arrow 
from  his  right  hand  and  that  the  left  held  the 
bow — the  restorer,  Montorsoli,  had  that  idea  and 
used  the  stump  of  the  bow.  But  after  attention 
was  drawn  to  Count  Stroganoff's  small  (about 
twenty  inches  high)  bronze  statue  of  Apollo,  in 
St.  Petersburg,  which  holds  folds  in  its  left  hand 
that  might  be  the  aegis  with  the  Gorgon  head,  it 
is  thought  that  the  Apollo  Belvedere  was  repre- 
sented originally  as  shaking  that  dread  banner  be- 
fore his  enemies.  The  statues  are  much  alike  in 

[42] 


12.     Apollo  Belvedere.     Vatican,  Rome. 


13.     Aphrodite  (Venus)  of 

Cnidus.     (Prom  an 

undraped  cast.) 


14.     Aphrodite   (Venus)  of 

Cnidus  (draped).     After 
Praxiteles.   Vatican,  Rome. 


15.     Eros  from  Centocelle.     Vatican,  Rome. 


ROME 

pose,  only  the  right  hand  of  the  bronze  one  is 
drawn  nearer  the  body.  Fortunately  both  arms 
and  hands  in  the  bronze  were  perfect  when  found 
and  the  drapery,  simply  thrown  over  the  shoulder 
and  falling  down  the  back,  is  now  thought  to  be 
a  remnant  of  the  original  which  may  have  been 
like  that  of  the  Apollo  Belvedere. 

The  scornful  curl  of  the  lips  and  the  proud  tilt 
of  the  head  seen  in  the  Apollo  Belvedere  seem  in 
better  keeping  with  the  use  of  the  aegis  to  show  dis- 
pleasure than  with  the  vindictive  use  of  the  arrows 
to  kill  his  enemies.  His  pose  is  quite  like  one 
who  has  just  descended  from  high  heavens  in  de- 
fense of  his  beloved  shrine.  When  Delphi  was 
attacked,  279  B.  C.,  by  the  fierce  Galatians  from 
the  north,  the  belief  was  that  the  beautiful  Apollo, 
clothed  in  glorious  light,  descended  through  the 
temple  roof  and,  shaking  the  aegis  before  the  ad- 
vancing hordes,  brought  a  terrific  storm  of  thunder 
and  lightning,  hail  and  rain  which  caused  confu- 
sion and  panic  and  complete  overthrow  of  the 
enemy. 

Apollo,  the  son  of  Zeus  and  Latona  and  twin 
brother  of  Artemis  (Diana),  as, 

"The  god  of  life,  and  poesy,  and  light, 
The  sun,  in  human  limbs  arrayed,  and  brow 
All  radiant  from  his  triumphs  in  the  fight," 

never  looked  his  part  more  truly  than  in  the  Vatican 

[43] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

statue.  That  the  original  Apollo  Belvedere  was 
a  Greek  work  is  unquestioned,  and  its  resemblance 
to  the  head  of  Helios,  the  god  of  light,  on  coins 
from  Rhodes,  shows  that  this  conception  of  the 
god  was  of  still  earlier  date. 

The  undraped  statue  of  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus" 
(Fig.  13),  is  taken  from  a  cast  of  the  draped 
goddess  (Fig.  14),  in  the  Vatican.  The  author- 
ities forbid  photographs  of  Aphrodite  without  her 
tin  drapery — added  in  the  eighteenth  century — but 
did  allow  a  cast  to  be  made  of  the  nude  statue. 
That  Praxiteles'  celebrated  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus" 
was  undraped  is  proved  by  the  nude  goddess  on 
Cnidian  coins  and  by  extracts  from  Lucian's  writ- 
ings. The  latter  says: — "The  goddess  stands  ele- 
vated in  the  middle  of  the  temple,  a  most  perfect 
form  of  art  in  Parian  marble,  her  lips  slightly 
parted  as  in  a  gentle  smile.  Her  whole  beauty 
appears,  no  drapery  enveloping  her  form;  but  as 
though  involuntarily,  she  covers  herself  with  her 
hand.  So  great  is  the  power  of  the  sculptor's  art 
in  this  form,  that  the  stone,  hard  and  obdurate, 
seems  as  though  suited  by  nature  to  render  all 
the  soft  and  graceful  members."  We  also  learn 
that  this  statue,  so  cherished  by  the  Cnidians  be- 
fore the  Christian  era,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century  A.  D.  was  in  Constantinople  in  the  palace 
of  Lasus,  where  it  stood  for  nearly  a  century,  and 
was  then  destroyed  by  fire. 

[44] 


ROME 

The  original  statue  of  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus" 
probably  represented  the  renowned  beauty  Phryne, 
the  favourite  of  Praxiteles.  Phryne  was  a  peasant 
girl  from  Boeotia,  very  poor,  but  as  she  grew  to 
womanhood  her  loveliness  attracted  all  Athens  and 
brought  her  lovers,  renown  and  great  wealth — and 
among  her  lovers  was  Praxiteles.  "The  Cnidian 
Aphrodite"  was  made  about  350  B.  C.  Pliny 
styles  this  bronze  statue  not  only  the  most  won- 
derful of  Praxiteles'  but  the  most  beautiful  in  the 
world. 

But  a  statue,  a  copy  of  another  of  Praxiteles' 
work,  that  is  more  satisfactory  because  saved  from 
the  hands  of  the  restorer,  if  not  from  the  prudery 
of  authorities,  is  "Eros,  from  Cintocelle"  (Fig. 
15),  often  called  "The  Genius  of  the  Vatican." 
In  ancient  times  the  Greek  original  of  this  statue 
— which  is  probably  a  copy  of  many  copies — was 
almost  as  celebrated  as  the  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus." 
It  is  known  from  ancient  writers  that  Praxiteles 
made  a  statue  of  "Eros"  (Cupid)  that  he  prized 
very  highly — so  highly  that  Phryne  determined,  by 
strategy,  to  know  which  equalled  it.  Praxiteles  had 
promised  Phryne,  so  the  story  runs,  to  give  her 
his  most  beautiful  work,  but  delayed  to  fulfil  his 
promise.  She  became  impatient  and  one  day  sent 
her  slave  to  tell  him  that  his  studio  was  on  fire. 
This  false  alarm  had  the  desired  effect,  for  Praxi- 
teles rushed  out,  exclaiming  that  all  his  labour  was 

[45] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

lost  if  his  "Satyr"  and  "Eros"  were  lost.  The 
"Satyr"  was  the  original  of  the  "Marble  Faun" 
(Fig.  32)  of  the  Capitoline  Museum. 

For  a  long  time  critics  looked  upon  the  Vatican 
"Eros"  as  a  direct  copy  of  the  original,  but  more 
probably  it  is  a  Roman  copy  of  the  second  century 
of  our  era  and  bears  very  little  resemblance  to 
Praxiteles'  "Eros,"  though  it  is  a  beautiful  work. 

In  1777,  on  the  Palatine  Hill,  Rome,  was  found 
the  "Apollo  Sauroktonus"  (Fig.  16),  of  the  Vat- 
ican. According  to  Pliny,  Praxiteles  carved  a 
bronze  statue  of  "a  young  Apollo  with  an  arrow 
on  the  alert  for  a  lizard  which  is  creeping  toward 
him,,  which  men  call  the  'Sauroktonus'  (lizard- 
killer)  ."  This  statue  has  usually  passed  as  a  copy 
of  the  one  mentioned  by  Pliny,  but  a  more  careful 
study  of  the  expression  and  pose  reveal  the  god  as 
resting  and  musing,  rather  than  on  the  alert  for 
the  nimble  animal  creeping  toward  him.  There  is 
the  easy  grace  of  Praxiteles  with  the  flowing  lines 
of  a  leaning  figure  and  also  the  withdrawn  look  of 
the  inward  seeing  eyes  like  those  of  the  "Hermes" 
of  Olympia,  the  one  genuine  work  remaining  of 
the  great  master.  Has  not  the  lizard  dared  to 
climb  the  tree-trunk  because  the  dreaming  god 
gives  no  sign  of  life  in  his  abstraction? 

Praxiteles  was  an  Athenian,  and  was  at  the 
height  of  his  career,  according  to  Pliny,  from  364 
to  361  B.  C.  when  probably  less  than  thirty  years 

[46] 


ROME 

old.  Ancient  writers  say  much  in  admiration  of 
Praxiteles'  work  and  also  make  many  allusions  to 
the  beautiful  Phryne,  and  intimate  that  she  was 
his  model  for  the  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus"  about 
350  B.  C.  These  meagre  facts  were  greatly  en- 
hanced by  the  finding  of  the  precious  original 
"Hermes,"  on  almost  the  same  spot  where  Pau- 
sanias  had  described  it. 

The  "Pallas  Athena"  (Minerva)  of  the  Vatican 
(Fig.  17),  is  often  confused  with  the  "Athena 
Medici"  (Fig.  134),  now  in  the  Ecole  des  Beaux 
Arts,  Paris,  but  a  comparison  of  the  two  will  show 
how  very  inferior  it  is  to  that  copy  of  an  original 
by  Pheidias.  The  sculptor  of  this  one  had  in 
mind,  no  doubt,  the  Athenian  statues  by  the  Greek 
master,  but  he  was  too  much  influenced  by  the  Ro- 
man love  of  elaborate  drapery  and  graceful  posing 
which  had  taken  the  place  of  the  severe  simplicity 
in  the  drapery  and  pose  of  the  Greeks.  There  is, 
however,  a  dignity  of  bearing  and  calm  repose, 
even  in  this  statue  of  the  decadence,  that  marked 
the  Pheidian  type. 

In  the  "Bust  of  Zeus"  (Fig.  18)  from  Otricoli, 
is  another  work  long  thought  to  be  a  direct  copy 
of  the  Pheidian  "Zeus"  of  Olympia,  but  now  dis- 
credited by  critics  and  relegated  to  the  modern 
modification  of  the  Pheidian  type.  The  unquiet 
eyes  and  the  frown  of  the  forehead  destroy  the 
grand  simplicity  that  marks  the  Parthenon  mar- 

[47] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

bles  and  that  must  have  belonged  to  the  Olympian 
Zeus.  Ancient  writers  have  again  and  again  re- 
ferred to  the  latter  statue.  One  writer  says : — "To 
reveal  his  likeness  to  thee,  Zeus  came  down  to 
earth;  or  thou  thyself,  Pheidias,  didst  go  to  see 
the  god."  Again,  "No  one  who  has  seen  Pheidias' 
Zeus  can  imagine  any  other  resemblance  of  the 
god."  Lucian  says  of  it,  "Those  who  enter  the 
temple  no  longer  think  that  they  see  ivory  from 
Indus,  or  beaten  gold  from  Thrace,  but  the  son 
of  Cronus  and  Rhea,  transferred  to  earth  by  Phei- 
dias." Alas,  that  only  a  shadow  of  that  great 
Olympian  masterpiece  remains  in  the  Zeus  of  the 
Vatican ! 

Zeus,  the  father  of  the  gods  and  men,  himself 
had  a  beginning  as  the  son  of  Cronus  (Saturn) 
and  Rhea  the  daughter  of  heaven  and  earth.  To 
keep  Cronus  from  swallowing  the  infant  Zeus,  as 
he  had  his  other  children,  Rhea  hid  him  and  gave 
to  Cronus  a  stone  wrapped  as  a  child,  which  he 
swallowed,  thinking  it  the  child.  When  Zeus  was 
grown,  he  married  Metis  (Prudence)  who  gave 
Cronus  a  concoction  that  caused  him  to  disgorge 
his  children  and  the  first  to  come  up  was  the  stone 
infant  Zeus;  this  stone  Zeus  set  up  at  Delphi. 
When  Metis  was  to  give  birth  to  a  child,  Zeus, 
jealous  for  fear  it  might  be  a  boy  and  dethrone 
him,  took  the  child  from  the  body  of  Metis  and 
placed  it  in  his  own  head  and  that  explains  how 

[48] 


ROME 

Athena  came  forth  from  the  head  of  Zeus  (see 
page  18). 

The  statue  of  "Meleager"  (Fig.  19)  was  found 
about  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It 
is  possibly  a  copy  of  a  work  by  Scopas  or  of  his 
school.  Scopas,  a  sculptor  a  little  older  than  Prax- 
iteles, was  a  native  of  the  island  of  Paros,  but  he 
spent  much  of  his  time  in  the  Peloponnesus  and 
Athens.  One  of  his  most  extended  works  was  the 
rebuilding  of  the  temple  of  Athena  at  Tegea,  in 
the  Peloponnesus,  which  in  394  B.  C.  was  de- 
stroyed by  fire.  Pausanias  enthusiastically  describes 
this  temple  and  its  decorations  and  says  that  the 
sculptured  scene  in  one  of  the  pediments  represented 
the  mythic  hunt  of  the  Calydonian  boar  and  men- 
tions among  many  other  statues  that  of  Meleager. 
The  story  of  Meleager  and  the  boar  hunt  was  very 
characteristic  of  the  works  of  Scopas,  for  he,  un- 
like Praxiteles,  loved  vivid  scenes  with  intense  ac- 
tion. A  good  example  showing  his  intense  action 
is  the  "Daughter  of  Niobe,"  in  the  Vatican,  a 
headless  statue  found  at  Tivoli.  It  is  a  Greek 
copy  of  one  of  the  figures  from  that  famous  group 
of  "Niobe  and  her  Children"  (see  Niobe  group, 
Florence,  page  85). 

Meleager  was  the  son  of  the  king  and  queen  of 
Calydon.  When  he  was  born,  the  three  Destinies 
prophesied  to  his  mother  that  he  would  live  only 
so  long  as  the  brand  would  burn  that  lay  on  the 

[49] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

hearth.  The  mother  snatched  the  brand,  instantly 
quenched  the  fire  and  laid  it  away.  But  when 
Meleager  grew  to  manhood  his  father,  the  king, 
neglected  one  day  to  pay  due  honour  to  Artemis, 
and  in  revenge  the  offended  goddess  sent  an  enor- 
mous boar  to  destroy  the  fields  of  Calydon.  Me- 
leager called  upon  the  heroes  of  Greece  to  come 
and  help  destroy  the  monster.  Not  only  did  the 
young  men  come,  but  Atalanta,  the  swift  of  foot, 
the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Arcadia,  came  too. 
Meleager  saw  her  and  loved  her.  At  last,  after  a 
fierce  struggle,  Meleager  killed  the  boar  and  gave 
to  Atalanta  the  head  and  rough  skin,  trophies  of 
his  success.  But  envy  filled  the  hearts  of  the  other 
contestants  and  the  brothers  of  Meleager' s  mother, 
bitterest  of  them  all,  wrested  the  prize  from  the 
hands  of  the  fair  Atalanta.  Meleager  in  his  anger 
rushed  upon  and  slew  his  uncles,  and  then  his 
mother,  in  her  blind  fury  at  the  death  of  her 
brothers,  set  fire  to  the  brand  and  ended  the  life 
of  her  own  son. 

The  "Torso  of  Hercules"  (Fig.  20)  is  in- 
scribed with  the  name  of  Apollonius  on  the  rough 
base,  an  artist  of  Athens  who  lived  in  the  first  cen- 
tury B.  C.  It  is  said  that  Michael  Angelo  used 
to  come  and  pass  his  fingers  over  the  surface  of 
this  broken  statue  in  his  sightless  old  age — and 
surely  the  marble  does  seem  to  yield  to  the  press- 
ure of  the  fingers,  so  like  flesh  is  the  texture. 

[50] 


ROME 

The  "Torso"  was  found  near  the  theatre  of  Pom- 
pey  In  the  sixteenth  century.  The  lion  skin  marks 
the  statue  as  representing  Hercules,  but  a  never- 
ending  controversy  wages  over  what  it  represents 
him  doing. 


CHAPTER    IV 
ROME— VATICAN  (Continued) 

'"T^O  appreciate  the  real  artistic  merit  of  the 
•••  "Discus  Thrower"  ( Fig.  2 1 ),  a  marble  copy 
of  a  bronze  statue  by  Myron,  in  the  Vatican,  one 
needs  to  compare  it  with  the  more  accurate .  copy 
found  on  the  Esquiline  Hill  in  1761  and  now  in 
the  Palazzo  Lancelotti  (Fig.  22).  As  the  latter 
is  in  the  private  apartment  of  the  prince  a  special 
permission  is  necessary  to  see  it.  Lucian  says  of 
the  original  bronze  as  he  saw  it  in  Athens,  "You 
speak  of  the  discus  thrower,  who  bends,  prepara- 
tory to  throw,  with  the  face  toward  the  hand 
holding  the  disk,  and  with  one  leg  bent  as  though 
to  rise  again  after  the  throw."  The  Vatican  copy 
has  a  modern  head,  and  wrongly  placed — another 
error  of  the  restorer. 

Myron  (about  500  to  440  B.  C.),  a  fellow  stu- 
dent with  Pheidias,  was  noted  for  his  representa- 
tion of  action  pure  and  simple.  In  the  "Discus 
Thrower"  one  not  only  feels  the  working  up  of  the 
muscles  to  the  point  of  greatest  action  but  also 
the  letting  down  that  gives  relief.  The  dragging 
left  foot  is  just  as  eloquent  of  regained  rest  as  the 
clinging  force  of  the  right  foot  is  of  greatest 

[52] 


! 


II 


23.     Ganymede  and  the  Eagle.     Vatican, 
Rome. 


24.     Ariadne.     Vatican,  Rome. 


ROME 

strain.  Only  an  instant  and  the  whirling  disk  will 
sing  through  the  air  and  the  bowed  athlete  will 
spring  to  rest  with  head  thrown  back  and  chest 
expanded. 

Among  the  most  celebrated  of  Myron's  animal 
pieces  was  his  far-famed  "Cow."  In  Cicero's  time 
it  stood  on  the  Pnyx  Hill,  Athens,  and  still  later 
in  the  Temple  of  Peace,  Rome.  We  learn  from 
a  score  or  more  of  ancient  epigrams  about  her 
life-likeness,  that  lions  tried  to  tear  her  in  pieces; 
calves  sought  her  bronze  udders;  gadflies  settled 
on  her  metal  skin;  shepherds  tried  to  drive  her, 
to  halter  her  and  hitch  her  to  the  plough;  in  fact 
that  even  Myron  himself  could  scarcely  distinguish 
her  from  the  rest  of  his  herd.  But  all  trace  of 
Myron's  "cow"  is  lost. 

Pliny  says  of  the  original  of  "Ganymede  and  the 
Eagle"  (Fig.  23),  by  Leochares  of  the  fourth 
century  B.  C.,  that  even  the  eagle  seems  to  be 
conscious  that  his  burden  is  precious  and  that  an 
honour  has  been  given  him,  in  the  gentle  way  he 
grasps,  through  the  drapery,  the  tender  body  of 
the  beautiful  boy.  The  eagle  has  that  upward 
strain  in  the  plastic  marble  that  it  must  have  had 
in  the  bronze  original.  The  bit  of  realism  in  the 
little  dog,  as  in  his  agony  over  the  loss  of  his  master 
he  stretches  his  neck  upward  to  its  utmost  capacity, 
is  delicious  in  its  truth  to  nature. 

The  story  of  Ganymede  is  rather  a  contradictory 

[53] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

one,  but  he  is  usually  considered  as  a  Trojan  lad 
whom  Zeus  decided  was  to  take  the  place  of  cup- 
bearer, left  vacant  by  the  marriage  of  his  and 
Juno's  daughter  Hebe  to  Hercules.  Zeus  either 
went  for  the  boy  himself,  as  an  eagle,  or  he  sent 
an  eagle  to  Mount  Ida  and  seized  him  from  among 
his  playmates.  Homer,  however,  makes  Ganymede 
the  son  of  Tros  and  Callirrhoe  who,  because  of 
his  great  beauty,  was  carried  off  to  live  with  the 
gods  and  to  be  the  cup-bearer  of  Zeus. 

Another  copy  of  a  bronze  statue  made  by  a 
fourth  century  B.  C.  artist,  Lysippus,  is  that  of 
"Apoxyomenos"  (the  scraper) .  This  marble  copy, 
found  at  Trastevere  in  1849,  represents  an  athlete 
cleaning  the  oil  and  dirt  from  his  right  arm  with 
an  iron  scraper.  It  is  said  that  Agrippa  placed 
Lysippus1  bronze  "Apoxyomenos"  before  his  bath 
in  Rome.  Tiberius,  however,  admired  it  so  much 
that  he  had  it  placed  in  his  own  private  apartments, 
but  the  clamour  of  the  people  over  the  loss  of  their 
favourite  work  of  art  compelled  him  to  return  the 
statue  to  its  original  place  in  front  of  the  bath. 

The  "Sleeping  Ariadne,'*  of  the  Vatican  (Fig. 
24) ,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  reclining  figures  in 
all  art.  The  statue  was  found  in  the  reign  of 
Julius  II  and  at  one  time  was  thought  to  represent 
Cleopatra.  But  upon  comparing  this  colossal  figure 
with  its  companion-piece  at  Madrid,  and  also  with 
reliefs  on  sarcophagi,  where  the  sleeping  Ariadne 

[54] 


ROME 

is  pictured  with  Theseus  on  one  side  hurrying  away 
to  his  ships  and  on  the  other  Dionysos  seeking  his 
bride,  it  seems  without  doubt  a  representation  of 
the  forsaken  wife. 

Theseus,  so  Greek  myth  says,  started  out  to 
free  the  Athenians  from  paying  the  awful  tribute 
— seven  maidens  and  seven  youths — demanded  by 
Minos,  king  of  Crete,  as  a  yearly  sacrifice  to  the 
monster  Minotaurus.  When  he  arrived  at  Crete 
with  his  tribute  of  youths  and  maidens,  Ariadne, 
the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Crete,  came  with  her 
father  to  see  the  yearly  offering.  She  no  sooner 
saw  Theseus  than  she  loved  him — and  he  loved  her 
in  return.  As  a  token  of  her  love,  she  furnished 
her  lover  with  a  sword  to  kill  the  hated  monster 
and  a  thread  to  lead  him  out  of  the  labyrinth.  As 
soon  as  the  deed  was  done  and  Theseus  had  escaped 
from  the  labyrinth,  he  took  Ariadne  and  started 
for  Athens.  On  the  way  home,  he  stopped  at  the 
island  of  Naxos,  and  while  there  Ariadne  was  so 
unfortunate  as  to  fall  asleep,  and  while  she  slept 
Theseus  sailed  away.  When  Dionysos  found  the 
deserted  bride  he  married  her  and  then  placed  her 
marriage  crown  among  the  stars,  where  it  can  be 
seen  to-day. 

The  famous  "Laocoon"  group  (Fig.  25)  was 
found  on  the  site  of  the  palace  of  Titus,  Rome,  in 
1506.  It  is  interesting  to  read  Francesco  Gallo's 
account  of  going  to  see  the  group.  He  says, 

[55] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

"Michael  Angelo,  who  was  almost  always  at  home 
with  us,  was  just  there.  My  father  begged  him 
to  go,  too;  and  so  we  three  set  out,  I  behind  my 
father.  When  we  dismounted  where  the  statue  lay, 
my  father  said  at  once,  'That  is  the  Laocoon  which 
Pliny  speaks  of.'  They  now  enlarged  the  opening, 
so  that  it  could  be  drawn  out.  After  we  had  ex- 
amined it,  we  went  home  and  breakfasted." 

The  group  was  intact,  except  that  the  right  arms 
of  Laocoon  and  his  youngest  son  were  missing.  If 
only  Michael  Angelo  had  restored  them  he  doubt- 
less would  have  preserved  the  original  pyramidal 
form  of  the  group  by  throwing  the  arms  of  the 
father  back  of  his  head  and  bending  that  of  the 
son's  toward  the  father.  As  it  is  stupidity  marks 
the  restoration. 

In  this  group  we  have  one  of  the  few  remaining 
examples  of  the  Rhodian  school.  Exaggerated  as 
the  action  is,  the  calm  dignity  in  the  agonized  face 
of  the  tortured  priest  gives  a  sense  of  elemental 
strength.  It  is  strength  so  deep  that  no  sound 
could  come  from  the  parted  lips.  The  agony  of 
his  suffering  has  left  its  physical  mark  on  face  and 
body,  but  no  torture  could  conquer  the  immortal 
soul  suffering  in  silence.  Michael  Angelo  declared 
this  group  "a  marvel  of  art." 

Although  the  Laocoon  group  stands  in  the  Vat- 
ican, yet  with  little  imagination  we  are  on  the 
distant  coast  of  Asia  Minor  outside  the  walls  of 

[56] 


ROME 

ancient  Troy.  The  wooden  horse,  left  by  the  wily 
Greeks,  has  just  been  discovered  by  the  Trojans 
and  Laocoon,  the  priest,  is  trying  to  persuade  them 
that  disaster  will  come  if  the  horse  is  taken  into 
the  city.  He  exclaims,  "For  my  part,  I  fear  the 
Greeks  even  when  they  offer  gifts !"  and  strikes  the 
wooden  steed  to  prove  to  them  their  danger.  A 
groan  seems  to  come  from  within  the  horse  but, 
before  his  warning  words  and  the  queer  sound  can 
fully  convince  the  Trojans,  they  must  listen  to  a 
Greek  spy.  The  fellow  has  come,  all  out  of  breath 
and  with  seeming  terror,  exclaims  that  he  has  been 
deserted  by  the  Greeks  and  that  the  huge  horse  is 
an  offering  to  Minerva — and  that  it  was  made  large 
to  prevent  the  Trojans  from  taking  it  into  their 
city!  And  just  here,  as  though  to  give  weight 
to  the  words  of  the  spy,  Neptune,  an  enemy  to 
the  Trojans,  sends  two  serpents  from  the  sea  to 
destroy  Laocoon  and  his  sons  at  the  very  altar 
where  they  are  offering  the  sacrificial  steer.  See 
the  huge  monsters  as 

"their  way  they  take, 
And  to  Laocoon  and  his  children  make; 
Then  their  sharpened  fangs  their  limbs  and  bodies  grind. 
The  wretched  father,  running  to  their  aid 
With  pious  haste,  but  vain,  they  next  invade; 
Twice  round  his  waist  their  winding  volumes  rolled; 
And  twice  about  his  gasping  throat  they  fold." 

The  great  master  in  the  Greek  genre  in  sculpt- 

[57] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

ure  was  Boethus  from  Asia  Minor.  The  "Boy 
with  a  Goose"  (Fig.  26),  in  the  Vatican,  is  one 
of  many  marble  copies  of  the  bronze  original  that 
Pliny  highly  praises.  The  goose  was  the  common 
plaything  of  the  child  in  the  Greek  home  two 
thousand  years  ago — and  to-day  too  for  that  mat- 
ter. It  was  an  easy  matter  for  Boethus  to  find 
models  for  his  famous  group  in  the  back  courts  of 
any  Greek  home.  That  he  saw  and  studied  the 
real  child  as  he  played  with  his  ungainly  compan- 
ion, the  struggles  of  the  sturdy  little  fellow  and 
the  gasping  efforts  of  the  choked  goose  bear  wit- 
ness. 

The  colossal  figure  of  "The  Nile"  (Fig.  27), 
with  its  sixteen  little  children  climbing  over  it, 
probably  is  a  copy  of  an  original  that  goes  back 
to  the  Alexandrian  period,  the  third  century  B.  C. 
The  little  figures  represent  sixteen  different  stages 
of  the  rise  of  the  waters  of  the  Nile.  Those  at 
the  feet  of  Father  Nile  play  in  the  ooze  and  slime 
with  the  crocodiles  picking  up  food  the  best  they 
may,  for  the  scant  overflow  of  the  waters  has 
brought  a  very  light  harvest.  But  as  the  waters 
creep  up  the  huge  figure,  the  children  grow  merrier 
and  fill  their  hands  with  fruits  and  vegetables  until, 
when  the  waters  have  reached  sixteen  cubits  in 
height,  one  little  fellow  stands  in  the  cornucopia 
surrounded  with  the  abundance  that  the  most  fruit- 
ful years  bring. 

[58] 


25.     Laococin.     Vatican,  Rome. 


26.     Boy  with  Goose,  after 
Boethos.     Vatican,  Rome. 


27.     Nile.     Vatican,  Rome. 


ROME 

There  are  six  replicas  of  the  group  of  "Father 
Nile"  in  the  various  galleries  of  Europe,  but  the 
one  in  the  Vatican  is  considered  the  best. 

A  portrait  statue  of  rare  excellence,  though  only 
a  copy,  is  that  of  "Demosthenes"  (Fig.  28).  The 
original  of  this  statue  was  by  Polyeuctos,  a  sculp- 
tor who  flourished  in  Athens  the  third  century  B.  C. 
In  his  bronze  portrait  of  Demosthenes,  set  up  in 
Athens  in  280  B.  C.,  he  represented  the  orator 
standing  with  folded  hands,  a  common  ancient  at- 
titude, expressive  of  anxiety  and  often  of  affliction. 
The  epigram  beneath  the  statue  said,  "Had,  O 
Demosthenes,  thy  piercing  and  strenuous  will  been 
supported  by  proportionate  strength,  they  might 
have  rescued  thy  fatherland  from  Philip." 

This  statue  of  Demosthenes,  in  the  Vatican, 
carries  a  roll  instead  of  having  folded  hands,  a 
change,  critics  believe,  due  to  a  time  when  Demos- 
thenes, having  conquered  his  affliction,  had  come 
to  be  admired  as  an  author  and  orator.  How 
plainly  the  set  of  the  mouth  tells  of  the  natural 
hesitancy  of  speech  that  would  have  been  the  undo- 
ing of  a  smaller  man,  but  with  Demosthenes  it 
was  only  an  obstacle  to  be  overcome.  The  stories 
of  his  untiring  efforts  with  pebbles  in  his  mouth 
and  reciting  in  the  roughest  and  steepest  places,  of 
his  shouting  on  the  seashore  until  even  the  roaring 
ocean  could  hear  his  voice  and  of  his  months  of 
retirement,  gaining  dignity  of  manner  before  his 

[59] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

faithful  mirror,  have  spurred  many  a  discouraged 
beginner. 

The  portrait  statue  of  "Augustus  Caesar"  (Fig. 
29),  found  in  1863,  in  the  villa  of  Livia,  near 
Prima  Porta,  Rome,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
works  of  Roman  times.  The  statue  was  nearly 
perfect  when  found;  only  a  finger,  part  of  an  ear 
and  the  sceptre  were  lost.  On  close  examination 
it  seems,  however,  that  the  left  leg  and  the  extended 
right  arm  had  undergone  repairs  in  ancient  times, 
an  evidence  of  its  value  in  the  past.  The  statue 
was  originally  painted,  for  there  are  still  faint 
traces  of  colour — purple,  red,  yellow  and  blue — on 
the  hair,  the  reliefs  on  the  close-fitting  armour, 
in  the  folds  of  the  toga  and  in  other  details  of  the 
figure. 

It  is  possible  that  the  statue  was  made  about  1 7 
B.  C.,  shortly  after  the  emperor's  triumphs  in  the 
North.  The  reliefs  on  his  armour,  which  set  forth 
his  principal  conquests  in  fairly  correct  chronologi- 
cal order,  point  to  the  above  date  and  also  the 
emperor's  attitude  as  of  one  addressing  his  people. 
His  easy  pose  and  simple  gesture  are  the  marks 
of  a  ruler  who  is  sure  of  his  absolute  power.  It 
was  said  of  Augustus  Caesar  in  his  adorning  of 
Rome,  "He  found  it  brick  and  left  it  marble." 

There  are  two  mutilated  Niobe  pieces  in  the 
Vatican,  probably  replicas  like  the  Niobe  group  in 
Florence  (see  page  85),  and  like  those  found  near 

[60] 


ROME 

the  Lateran,  Rome.  One,  badly  marred  and 
broken,  represents  a  son  and  daughter,  the  boy  pro- 
tecting his  sister  regardless  of  his  own  safety. 
Canova  recognised  the  figures  as  belonging  to  the 
Niobe  group.  The  attitude  of  the  son  is  the  same 
as  the  one  in  Florence  (see  Fig.  54).  The  other 
statue,  headless,  represents  a  daughter  of  the  fa- 
mous group.  It  was  found  at  Tivoli  and  is  a 
splendid  work,  possibly  a  copy  in  marble  of  Scopas 
or  Praxiteles. 

Possibly  no  statue  in  Rome  has  had  a  more 
varied  history  than  that  of  Marcus  Aurelius  (Fig. 
30).  Standing  in  the  Piazza  del  Campidoglio, 
it  commands  attention  from  all  who  enter  or  leave 
the  .Capitoline  Museum — and  rightly,  for  it  is 
one  of  the  most  perfect  ancient  equestrian  statues 
in  existence. 

The  statue  was  erected  to  the  Roman  emperor, 
Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  who  died  March  17, 
1 80.  Though  not  a  Christian  this  emperor  was  a 
just  ruler,  upright  in  character  and  magnanimous 
to  his  enemies.  In  fact,  one  can  scarcely  believe  in 
reading  the  history  of  his  life  and  his  own  writings, 
"Meditations,"  that  he  was  the  emperor  who  so 
cruelly  persecuted  the  Christians  in  Gaul. 

Originally  the  statue  was  gilded  and  stood  in 

front  of  the  Arch  of  Severus,  the  latter  erected 

A.  D.   203,  over  the  Sacra  Via  of  the  Forum. 

Some  time  during  the  Middle  Ages  it  stood  near 

[61] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

the  Lateran.  Pope  John  XIII,  965,  used  the 
statue  as  a  gallows  from  which  he  hung  a  refrac- 
tory prefect  by  his  hair.  In  1347,  during  the 
rejoicing  after  Rienzi's  elevation  to  the  tribuneship, 
the  nostrils  of  the  horse  were  made  to  flow,  one 
with  water  and  the  other  with  wine.  The  intimate 
connection  of  the  statue  with  the  Lateran  fostered 
the  popular  belief  that  it  represented  Constantine 
— the  first  Christian  emperor  (31 1 ) — and  this  for- 
tunate error  accounts  for  its  preservation.  When 
Michael  Angelo  designed  the  Piazza  of  the  Capi- 
tol he  wished  to  remove  this  statue  to  its  present 
site.  The  canons  of  the  Lateran  objected  but  were 
won  over  by  the  promise  of  an  annual  acknowledg- 
ment of  their  ownership — and  even  to-day  a  floral 
offering  is  presented  once  a  year  by  senators  to  the 
chapter  of  the  Lateran.  Michael  Angelo  person- 
ally supervised  the  removal  of  the  statue  and  de- 
signed the  wonderful  pedestal  that  enables  the 
sightseer  to  examine  every  part  of  the  horse  and 
its  rider. 


[623 


30.     Equestrian     Statue    of    Marcus    Aurelius 
Piazzi  del  Campidoglio,  Rome. 


31.     Dying  Gaul.     Capitoline,  Rome. 


1 


CHAPTER    V 
ROME— THE    CAPITOLINE    MUSEUM 

/TVHE  "Dying  Gaul/'  not  gladiator,  of  the  Cap- 
"*•  itol  (Fig.  31),  is  the  most  prominent  statue 
in  the  Museum.  Most  probably  it  is  a  direct  copy 
made  in  Pergamon,  in  marble,  of  a  figure  in  the  fa- 
mous Pergamon  bronze  group.  This  easily  explains 
how  the  prostrate  warrior  could  have  received  his 
death  wound  from  an  enemy — another  figure  in 
the  group — rather  than  have  given  it  himself. 
The  wound  being  on  the  right  side  with  the  weapon 
withdrawn  has  been  a  strong  argument  against  self- 
destruction.  This  statue,  found  in  Rome  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  .was  known  as  the  "Dying  Glad- 
iator" until  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Then 
critics,  noting  the  short,  crisp  hair,  stiff  mustache 
and  twisted  torque  around  the  neck — an  ornament 
characteristic  of  ancient  Gaul — decided  it  repre- 
sented a  warrior  rather  than  an  athlete.  The  statue 
was  complete  except  for  part  of  the  base  and  the 
right  arm,  the  latter,  restored  by  Michael  Angelo 
(thank  the  great  master,  oh,  ye  people!)  claims 
attention  for  its  own  merit. 

If  St.  Paul  could  have  witnessed  the  terrific  on- 
slaught of  these  northern  barbarians  three  centuries 

[63] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

before  his  time,  would  he  have  said,  "O  foolish 
Galatians,  who  hath  bewitched  you?  ye  did  run 
well;  who  did  hinder  you?"  Like  wild  beasts 
they  rushed  naked  into  battle,  terrifying  not 
alone  the  more  peaceable  people  but  the  warlike 
Romans  as  well.  The  Pergamon  artists  represent- 
ed in  bronze  and  marble  the  actual  facts  about 
the  besiegers  whose  power  they  had  felt.  Who 
could  look  at  the  face  and  form  of  the  defeated 
warrior  without  seeing  earmarks  of  a  cruel,  un- 
reasoning invader.  There  are  the  low,  broad  fore- 
head and  the  flat  bridged,  wide  nostriled  nose,  the 
high  cheek-bones  and  lowering  eyebrows  of  the 
uncivilised  savage.  The  leathery  skin,  hardened 
still  more  on  the  sole  of  the  foot,  is  that  of  one 
constantly  exposed  to  wind  and  weather.  There 
is,  however,  a  calm  dignity  in  these  last  moments 
of  mortal  agony  that  shows  the  warrior's  absolute 
indifference  to  pain  of  body.  That  these  bar- 
barians from  the  north  refused  to  submit  to  slavery 
in  defeat  is  shown  in  the  group  in  the  National 
Museum  (see  Fig.  40). 

But  now  let  us  turn  to  the  wonderfully  beautiful 
"Satyr  Resting"  (Fig.  32),  a  copy  of  a  statue  by 
Praxiteles.  Could  anything  be  in  greater  contrast 
to  the  "Dying  Gaul" !  Hawthorne's  vivid  word 
picture  of  this  famous  work,  in  his  "Marble  Faun," 
surpasses  even  a  half-tone  picture  of  it.  But  beau- 
tiful as  it  is  in  its  complete  restoration  one  has 


ROME 

a  better  idea  of  the  greater  beauty  of  the  original 
in  a  marred  and  broken  fragment  in  Parian  marble 
in  the  Louvre,  Paris  (see  Fig.  112). 

Satyrs  were  favourite  subjects  in  ancient  art,  es- 
pecially to  ornament  fountains.  They  were  deities 
of  the  woods  and  fields  wandering  about  to  give 
luxuriance  to  vegetation.  Hermes  was  said  to  be 
their  father  and  the  Naiades  their  mother.  At 
first  they  were  covered  with  bristly  hair,  had  two 
horns,  pointed  ears  and  goat-like  feet;  they  loved 
wine  and  rather  coarse  pleasure  and  were  feared 
by  mortals.  But  in  later  writings  they  became 
Fauns  and  were  gladsome,  frolicsome  creatures, 
loved  by  all. 

Praxiteles  certainly  had  the  Faun  in  mind  when 
he  made  the  original  of  this  beautiful  creature  of 
the  Capitol.  Yes,  Hawthorne  was  right,  "Neither 
man  nor  animal,  and  yet  no  monster;  but  a  being 
in  whom  both  races  meet  on  friendly  ground! — 
Trees,  grass,  flowers,  woodland  streamlets,  cattle, 
deer,  and  unsophisticated  man !  The  essence  of  all 
these  was  compressed  long  ago,  and  still  exists  with- 
in that  discoloured  marble  surface  of  the  Faun 
of  Praxiteles"  (see  Hawthorne's  "Marble  Faun," 
Chapter  I). 

The  "Capitoline  Venus"  (Fig.  33)  was  found 
almost  perfect,  walled  up  in  a  niche  between  the 
Viminal  and  Quirinal,  two  of  the  seven  hills  of 
Rome.  It  is  a  Greek  work  of  the  very  highest 

[65] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

development  after  Praxiteles'  Aphrodite  of  Cnidus. 
The  beautiful  goddess  is  not  here  represented  as 
the  guardian  of  a  temple,  but  as  the  perfection  of 
womanly  grace  for  the  home.  The  statue,  revolv- 
ing on  its  base,  is  an  exquisite  example  of  the  per- 
fect physical  woman  whose  every  charm  is  nature's 
own.  It  is  thought  that  this  "Venus"  may  be  a 
reproduction  from  a  nude  Aphrodite  by  Scopas, 
that  was  in  the  temple  built  by  Brutus  Gallaecus, 
about  133  B.  C.  and  praised  by  Pliny,  in  comparing 
it  with  the  Cnidian  Aphrodite. 

The  two  exquisite  Greek  reliefs — "Endymion 
Asleep"  (Fig.  34),  and  "Perseus  Liberating  An- 
dromeda," representing  Greek  mythology — were 
once  part  of  eight  reliefs  in  the  Spada  Palace, 
Rome.  Endymion's  attitude  of  deep  slumber  fits 
well  with  the  story  that  the  cold-hearted  Selene 
(the  moon)  loved  the  beautiful  boy  and  kept  him 
always  asleep  that  she  might  kiss  and  caress  him 
without  his  knowledge.  But  another  version  of 
Endymion  says  he  was  beloved  of  the  gods  and 
fulfilled  the  mission  of  releasing  Glaucus  and 
Scylla,  who  fell  under  the  curse  of  Circe,  accord- 
ing to  Keats'  "Endymion." 

Even  to-day  the  rock  is  shown  off  the  coast  of 
Palestine  where  poor  Andromeda  was  chained. 
She  was  the  innocent  victim  of  her  mother,  Cas- 
siope's  vanity,  but  Perseus  came  and  killed  the  sea- 
monster,  her  captor,  and  then  married  her.  But 
[66] 


ROME 

their  troubles  were  not  over,  for  a  former  lover 
appeared  at  the  wedding-feast  and  demanded  her 
as  his  own.  Her  father,  Cepheus,  replied: — uYou 
should  have  claimed  her  when  she  lay  bound  to  the 
rock,  the  monster's  victim.  The  sentence  of  the 
gods  dooming  her  to  such  a  fate  dissolved  all 
engagements,  as  death  itself  would  have  done." 
This  did  not  satisfy  the  rejected  lover  and  only 
when  Perseus,  with  the  Gorgon's  head,  turned  him 
and  his  followers  to  stone  was  he  silenced.  After 
death  Andromeda  was  placed  among  the  stars. 

As  we  stand  before  the  "Bronze  Wolf,"  in  the 
Capitol  (Fig.  35),  we  feel  that  charm  of  mystery 
about  the  bronze  animal  that  shrouds  the  whole 
story  of  the  founding  of  Rome  by  the  twin  boys, 
Romulus  and  Remus.  The  wolf  is  surely  of  Etrus- 
can workmanship,  but  when  done  and  by  whom, 
who  can  tell  ?  The  design  is  crude  and  yet  wonder- 
fully realistic.  No  writer  mentions  the  wolf  before 
Cicero  and  Virgil's  time — the  first  century  B.  C. 
The  latter  alludes  to  it  in  the  eighth  book  of  the 
^Eneid.  He  says: — 

"By  the  wolf  were  laid  the  martial  twins, 
Intrepid  on  her  swelling  dugs  they  hung; 
The  foster-dam  lolled  out  her  fawning  tongue: 
They  sucked  secure,  while  bending  back  her  head, 
She  licked  their  tender  limbs,  and  formed  them  as  they 
fed." 

The  last  statement  is  probably  poetic  license,  as 

[67] 


WHAT   SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

the  wolf  stares  straight  ahead.  Cicero,  in  one  of 
his  orations  to  Catiline,  mentions  a  little  gilt  figure 
of  Romulus  as  having  been  struck  by  lightning  and 
intimates  that  his  hearers  would  remember  the 
group  as  it  stood  in  the  Capitol.  As  there  is  a 
broken  place  in  the  hind  leg  of  the  wolf,  it  is 
probable  that  this  is  the  one  to  which  the  great 
orator  refers.  The  present  children  were  added 
in  the  fifteenth  century  by  Delia  Porta  and  are 
entirely  lacking  in  the  simplicity  of  technic  and 
nai've  conception  of  the  wolf,  their  foster-mother. 
Simplicity  and  naivete  are  characteristics  that 
marked  Etruscan  art.  Those  early  artists  followed 
nature  and  were  not  imitators. 

This  bust  of  "Socrates"  (Fig.  36)  is  one  of  the 
best  of  the  ideal  portraits  of  the  famous  Greek 
philosopher.  Socrates  (about  470  to  399  B.  C.) 
was  a  sculptor  himself  and  the  son  of  a  sculptor, 
yet  there  are  no  authentic  likenesses  of  him,  the 
busts  inscribed  with  his  name  were  made  after  the 
vivid  descriptions  of  Plato,  his  favourite  pupil.  But 
during  excavations  on  the  site  of  the  Theatre  of 
Dionysos,  rebuilt  the  last  of  the  fourth  century 
B.  C.,  was  found  a  colossal  cowering  silen,  probably 
an  architectural  support,  with  a  face  very  like  the 
busts  inscribed  to  Socrates.  As  that  great  thinker 
was  said  to  have  had  a  silen  face,  possibly  this  ideal 
portrait  in  the  Capitol  is  not  far  from  a  real  like- 
ness. Silenos,  the  son  of  Hermes,  was  the  school- 
[68] 


34.     Endymion.     Capitoline,  Rome. 


35.     The  Wolf.     Capitoline,  Rome. 


ROME 

master  and  foster-father  of  Dionysos  (Bacchus). 
He  was  a  fat,  jolly  old  man,  usually  drunk,  but 
withal  an  inspired  prophet. 

The  beauty  and  calm  dignity  of  this  "Sitting 
Statue"  (Fig.  37)  certainly  lead  one  to  believe 
that  it  represents  Agrippina,  the  youngest  daughter 
of  Agrippa  and  Julia.  No  empress  in  those  troub- 
lous days,  between  the  old  dispensation  and  the 
new,  showed  greater  wisdom  or  was  more  renowned 
for  virtue  than  Agrippina.  She  was  the  wife  of  an 
emperor,  Germanicus,  and  the  mother  of  an  em- 
peror, Caligula.  Accompanying  Germanicus  in 
his  campaigns,  she  kept  in  close  touch  with  all  his 
plans  and  at  one  time  on  the  Rhine,  the  emperor 
being  absent,  her  presence  of  mind  saved  the  army. 
A  defective  bridge  threatened  disaster,  but  she 
quickly  took  command  and  averted  the  danger. 

Germanicus  was  murdered  in  Asia,  and  when 
Agrippina  returned  home  with  his  ashes,  the  ten- 
derest  sympathy  and  most  profound  respect  were 
shown  her  along  the  way,  and  in  Rome  she  was 
greeted  with  the  greatest  honour  by  all  the  people. 
In  A.  D.  30,  she  was  banished  to  the  island  of 
Pandataria  by  the  jealous  hatred  of  Tiberius.  She 
died  there,  A.  D.  33,  probably  by  voluntary  star- 
vation— fortunately  before  the  development  of  the 
horribly  wicked  side  of  her  son,  Caligula's,  nature 
(see  page  38). 

[69] 


CHAPTER    VI 
ROME—  NATIONAL    MUSEUM 


National  Museum  building  is  part  of  what 
was  once  the  gigantic  Baths  of  Diocletian  — 
baths  so  tremendous  that  three  thousand  bathers 
came  to  them  daily.  Though  named  for  Diocletian 
they  were  simply  completed  during  his  reign,  A.  D. 
305-6;  the  actual  work  of  building  is  ascribed  to 
condemned  Christians.  They  began  to  fall  into 
decay  as  early  as  A.  D.  410. 

The  Museum  contains  antiques  from  recent  finds 
in  excavating  public  property  in  Rome,  and  from 
other  museums,  private  villas  and  palaces.  Some 
of  the  statues  were  put  here  temporarily  from  the 
Museo  Boncampagni  several  years  ago. 

A  work  that  attracts  almost  immediate  attention 
on  entering  the  room  where  it  stands  is  "The 
Birth  of  Aphrodite  (Venus)"  (Fig.  38).  The 
relief,  on  one  side  of  a  marble  throne  intended  for 
a  colossal  Aphrodite,  shows  the  goddess  just  rising 
from  the  sea  and  two  handmaidens,  standing  on 
the  rocky  coast  on  either  side,  raise  shielding  drap- 
ery before  the  nascent  Aphrodite.  Archaic  it  cer- 
tainly is  but  with  a  realism  that  is  charming.  Look 

[70] 


ROME 

how  tenderly  the  helping  hands  guide  and  welcome 
the  stranger  and  how  childlike  is  the  uplifted,  ex- 
pectant face.  The  wide-set  breasts  (of  course  too 
wide  for  nature) ,  expanded  chest  and  spread-out 
arms  plainly  tell  the  story  of  lungs  adapting  them- 
selves to  the  rarer  density  of  the  new  element.  The 
birth  of  Aphrodite  was  a  familiar  subject  in  Greek 
art.  Pheidias  used  it  as  one  of  his  subjects  on  the 
low  pedestal  for  the  seat  and  footstool  of  the  great 
Zeus  at  Olympia;  and  Botticelli,  following  the 
spirit  of  classic  art,  painted  his  famous  picture  of 
"Venus  Rising  from  the  Sea." 

The  marble  throne  on  which  is  the  relief  of 
"The  Birth  of  Aphrodite"  was  found  in  the  Villa 
Ludovisi,  in  1886,  just  where  stood  the  ancient 
temple  of  Venus  Erycina;  but  when  the  throne, 
with  its  quaint  decorations,  was  made  is  uncertain ; 
the  work,  however,  points  to  a  developed  archaic 
art. 

Another  relief  in  the  same  room  of  still  greater 
interest  is  the  so-called  "Dying  Medusa"  (Fig. 
39).  The  head,  in  very  high  relief,  about  eight 
inches,  is  that  of  a  strong,  beautiful  woman  at  the 
moment  when  the  heart  has  stopped  and  the  fea- 
tures are  setting  in  death.  The  dropped  eyelids 
conceal  the  glassy  eyeballs,  the  nose  has  whitened 
and  the  exquisite  mouth  setting  into  eternal  si- 
lence— and  yet  how  beautiful,  more  like  sleep  than 
death !  The  hair,  tossed  and  blown  as  by  a  power 

[71] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

within  itself,  has  the  appearance  of  restless,  wrig- 
gling snakes  aimlessly  reaching  out  over  temple, 
cheek,  chin,  and  neck.  If  this  relief  was  intended 
to  represent  Medusa,  the  artist  has  made  Athena's 
curse  more  real  in  suggestion  than  when  actual 
hissing  serpents  are  shown. 

You  may  remember  that  Medusa  was  once  a 
beautiful  maiden  with  hair  that  was  her  glory,  but 
Athena,  who  would  brook  no  rival  in  beauty, 
changed  her  ringlets  to  serpents,  destroyed  her 
charms  and  placed  her  head  in  the  centre  of  her 
breastplate. 

When  comparing  this  relief  with  the  figures  of 
the  Pergamon  frieze  the  theory  of  the  Medusa 
head  seems  improbable.  When  found,  this  relief, 
an  original,  was  badly  broken — most  of  the  nose, 
neck  and  chest  were  gone — so  possibly  the  head 
belonged  to  a  powerful  woman,  a  beautiful  woman 
dying.  Whether  the  relief  is  a  "Dying  Medusa," 
or  a  "Dying  Woman,"  it  is  a  marvel  of  exquisite 
beauty  and  probably  points  to  Pergamon' s  altar 
as  its  original  setting. 

We  now  turn  to  a  group  "The  Galatian  and  his 
dying  wife"  (Fig.  40),  in  all  probability  a  marble 
copy  made  in  Pergamon,  of  the  bronze  original  on 
the  Acropolis  of  Pergamon.  The  fine-grained  mar- 
ble, from  Fauni,  a  small  island  on  the  Asia-Minor 
coast,  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  "Dying  Gaul"  (see 
Fig.  31).  The  two  pieces  were  together  in  the 

[72] 


Kg 


L 
ll 


la 


I 

fl'-S 


ROME 

possession  of  Cardinal  Ludovisi  in  1622,  and  may 
have  been  found  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Gardens 
of  Sallust,  the  Cardinal's  new  villa.  It  is  a  pity 
that  the  two  pieces  could  not  now  be  together  in 
the  same  museum. 

Unfortunately  the  warrior's  right  arm,  in  this 
group,  is  restored  too  low.  The  side  view  shows 
his  rugged  face  set  in  stiff  hair,  with  upper  teeth 
showing,  and  hard  set  features  very  similar  to  those 
of  the  Dying  Gaul.  The  fierce  warrior,  hard 
pressed  by  the  enemy,  escapes  for  a  moment,  but 
realising  that  slavery  is  before  him  and  his  wife, 
instantly  takes  the  life  of  his  companion  and 
plunges  the  sword  into  his  own  neck.  His  back- 
ward look  of  savage  triumph  and  his  tender  grasp 
on  the  arm  of  his  sinking  wife  are  so  tremendous 
in  import  that  one  is  filled  with  horror  and  grief 
over  the  tragedy. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  Pergamon  bronzes  and  the 
Athenian  marble  copies,  the  latter  sent  as  thank 
offerings  by  King  Attalus,  is  still  very  fragmentary, 
though  the  excavations  at  Pergamon  and  Athens 
have  brought  to  light  pedestals  and  bronze  bits 
of  drapery  and  fingers,  and  broken  marble  statues, 
which  give  us  an  understanding  of  Pergamon  art 
undreamed  of  fifty  years  ago. 

The  statue  of  "Ares  (Mars)  Ludovisi"  (Fig. 
41),  at  one  time  was  thought  to  be  a  reproduction 
of  a  work  by  Scopas  (fourth  century  B.  C),  but 

[73] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

his  face  is  too  Lysippian  in  expression  to  belong  to 
the  older  man;  then  too,  the  little  Eros  (Cupid) 
playing  with  his  armour  gives  it  more  the  spirit 
of  the  age  of  Alexander,  which  brings  the  statue 
nearer  the  third  century  B.  C.  Certainly  the  pen- 
sive attitude  of  the  god  of  war  accords  better  with 
dreams  of  love  than  of  war — possibly  his  thoughts 
are  with  the  beautiful  Aphrodite,  the  goddess  he 
admired  above  all  others.  Ares,  or  Mars,  was  the 
son  of  Zeus  and  Hera  (Jupiter  and  Juno).  He 
was  the  most  highly  revered  god  in  Rome  next  to 
Jupiter  and  was  thought  to  be  the  father  of  Romu- 
lus. He  was  usually  spoken  of  as  Father  Mars 
and,  being  the  god  of  war,  war  itself  was  often 
called  Mars. 

Goethe  wrote  of  the  bust  "Juno  (Hera)  Ludo- 
visi"  (Fig.  42),  "No  words  can  give  any  idea  of 
it;  it  is  like  a  poem  of  Homer."  Beautiful  in  its 
calm  repose;  satisfying  in  its  quiet  strength;  rest- 
ful in  its  reserve  power  and  captivating  in  its 
queenly  bearing.  If  only  the  whole  statue  had 
been  found — this  bust  was  never  intended  to  be 
alone — what  a  superlatively  magnificent  work  of 
art  it  must  have  been — for  magnificent  it  is  in  its 
fragment. 

Ancient  writers  termed  Juno  the  "ox-eyed  god- 
dess," but  why,  it  is  hard  to  conjecture.  Antique 
statues  of  Hera  represent  her  as  far-seeing,  stern 
and  jealous,  often  with  her  eyes  narrow  and  far 

[74] 


ROME 

apart,  even  running  into  the  temples,  thus  giving 
the  impression  of  an  all-seeing  vision. 

Hera,  the  queen  of  the  gods,  was  the  wife  and 
sister  of  Zeus.  She  was  the  only  goddess  who  was 
really  married,  so  was  patroness  of  nuptials — and 
was  the  mother  of  Ares  (Mars) .  Constantly  jeal- 
ous, she  kept  her  all-seeing  eyes  ever  on  Zeus,  and 
to  good  purpose  too,  for  that  fickle  god  was  prone 
to  make  love  to  every  pretty  face.  The  trials  of 
Hera  and  the  love-affairs  of  Zeus  were  never  end- 
ing in  number  and  variety. 

The  "Bronze  Figure  of  a  Pugilist"  (Fig.  43), 
is  not  attractive  as  a  subject,  but  as  an  original  of 
the  Hellenistic  period,  from  Alexander  the  Great 
until  about  100  B.  C.,  it  is  an  admirable  example. 
The  carefully  worked  out  details,  as  in  the  metal 
hooks  fastening  the  leather  bands,  the  marred  and 
battered  face  and  flesh,  reminders  of  the  fight,  show 
no  pettiness  in  handling.  Possibly  the  pugilist's 
open  mouth  is  in  speech  with  an  attendant,  but 
more  likely  it  indicates  a  stupid  satisfaction  as  he 
turned  his  head  to  the  applauding  multitude. 
Verily,  the  stamp  of  the  pugilist  changes  not  with 
the  passing  of  centuries ! 

Near  this  seated  figure  is  another  bronze  statue 
of  a  "Man  leaning  on  his  staff,"  probably  a  brother 
pugilist — I  suppose  they  formed  a  brotherhood — 
that  stands  for  the  best  art  of  the  Alexandrian 
period. 

[75] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

But  one  of  the  most  beautiful  fragments  in  the 
museum  is  the  "Marble  Statue  of  a  Kneeling  ( ?) 
Youth"  (Fig.  44),  found  in  Nero's  Villa  at  Su- 
biaco.  The  slender,  boyish  youth  seems  to  be 
gliding  over  the  ground  with  long  strides.  His 
left  knee  almost  touches  the  earth — the  block  is 
simply  a  support  for  the  marble ;  his  head  is  thrown 
back,  his  left  arm  is  bent  to  the  right;  the  hand 
must  have  rested  on  the  right  leg,  where  is  still  a 
broken  fragment.  The  right  arm,  stretched  up- 
ward, must  have  had  the  open  hand  turned  out- 
ward to  ward  off  an  obstruction,  which  will  account 
for  the  bend  in  the  left  side.  Though  no  definite 
name  has  been  given  this  youth,  the  statue  is  recog- 
nised as  a  Greek  original  of  very  great  merit.  Few 
antique  marbles  express  living  flesh  so  vividly;  the 
healthy  blood  seems  to  make  the  strong,  young  flesh 
fairly  tingle  under  the  soft  yellow  surface.  One 
realises  in  standing  before  this  fragment  that  a 
master  hand  has  touched  it.  The  youth  all  but 
moves  in  his  anxiety  to  be  off. 


[76] 


02  « 


|s 


45.     Moses.     By  Michael  Angelo.     S.  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  Rome. 


CHAPTER    VII 
ROME— MISCELLANEOUS 

A  S  we  stand  before  Michael  Angelo's  "Moses" 
•**•  ( Fig.  45 ),  in  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  it  is  hard 
to  get  a  just  idea  of  the  majesty  of  the  statue, 
placed  as  it  is  on  a  level  with  the  eye.  The  statue 
was  intended  to  be  at  least  fifteen  feet  above  the 
floor.  When  the  young  sculptor  came  back  to 
Rome  in  1505,  Pope  Julius  II  was  all  enthusiasm 
over  a  colossal  mausoleum  to  himself  to  be  placed 
in  St.  Peter's,  and  gave  the  commission  to  Michael 
Angelo.  Then  began  the  forty-five  years  of  tor- 
ment to  the  artist  over  this  tomb  for  the  touchy, 
vacillating  pontiff,  and  in  the  end  only  four  statues 
were  completed  of  the  colossal  monument — the 
"Moses,"  "Victory,"  and  the  two  "Captives"  (see 
Figs.  1 20,  121). 

When  the  master  made  these  great  masterpieces 
he  used  no  plaster  model;  fixed  no  points  of  length, 
width  and  depth,  but  with  a  rough  sketch  to  find 
the  extreme  points  of  his  composition  on  the  marble 
block,  gave  his  attention  to  the  statue  hidden  with- 
in. With  chisel  and  mallet  he  set  to  work  to  free 
the  prisoner,  following  the  barest  charcoal  outline 
traced  on  the  marble.  Surely  this  sculptor  was  a 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

prophet  of  God  in  his  understanding  of  the  Old 
Testament  heroes!  Could  not  this  "Moses"  have 
talked  face  to  face  with  the  Almighty.  His  con- 
ception of  the  mighty  leader,  ready  to  spring  from 
his  seat  in  indignation  at  the  idolatry  of  the  Israel- 
ites, is  so  far  above  our  own  puny  thoughts  that  we 
feel  little  and  insignificant  in  his  presence.  Look- 
ing at  the  statue  closely,  the  proportions  do  seem 
inaccurate  in  the  small  head  and  big  torso  and 
limbs;  also  the  piled  up  folds  on  the  perfect  knee 
are  incongruous  at  close  range,  but  if  the  statue 
were  given  its  rightful  place  these  irregularities 
would  disappear.  The  horns  refer  to  an  ancient 
reading  of  Exodus  xxxiv.  35. 

The  symbolic  statues  on  the  left  of  Rachael, 
meditation,  and  on  the  right  Leah,  active  life,  are 
Michael  Angelo's,  though  probably  not  done  en- 
tirely by  his  own  hand. 

Michael  Angelo  was  twenty-one  when  he  came 
to  Rome  the  first  time.  Though  he  stayed  but 
four  years — 1496  to  1500 — yet  during  that  time 
he  made  a  group  of  statuary  that  linked  him  with 
the  classic  Greek  art  of  eighteen  centuries  before. 
His  "Pieta"  (Fig.  46),  in  St.  Peter's,  surpasses  all 
other  "Pietas"  ever  portrayed  in  marble  or  on 
canvas — not  that  the  conception  is  original  for 
other  artists  have  used  similar  attitudes.  Mi- 
chael Angelo  has  wrought  into  this  group  all  the 
pathos  of  the  Gospel  story  without  losing  sight 


ROME 

of  the  perfect  physical  beauty  of  the  God-man  and 
His  Virgin  Mother.  But  the  critics  of  Rome  ob- 
jected that  the  virgin  was  too  young.  The  sculp- 
tor replied:  "Don't  you  know  that  chaste  women 
keep  their  youthful  looks  much  longer  than 
others?"  Not  satisfied,  they  criticised  the  Son  as 
too  old.  "I  wanted  to  show,"  he  answered,  "that 
he  really  took  upon  him  human  flesh,  and  that  he 
bore  all  the  miseries  of  men,  yet  without  sin." 

That  Michael  Angelo  understood  perfectly  the 
physical  law  of  rigor-mo rtis  is  shown  in  the  limp 
figure  of  the  dead  Saviour.  Even  the  folds  of  the 
Virgin's  robe  that  fall  away  from  the  band  across 
the  breast  and  from  under  the  body  on  her  knees, 
are  not  more  flexible  than  are  the  limbs  of  her 
divine  Son.  Look  at  the  joint  of  the  right  shoul- 
der and  the  drop  of  the  legs;  in  fact  the  whole 
body  expresses  inertness,  the  end  of  all  physical 
power.  Again  and  again  we  are  drawn  to  the 
group,  the  pity  of  it  all  appeals  to  our  very  heart 
of  hearts. 

In  S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva  is  Michael  Angelo's 
"Christ  with  the  Cross"  (Fig.  47).  The  statue 
was  designed  by  the  master,  then  put  into  the  hands 
of  his  assistants  to  finish.  The  figure  is  so  marred 
by  the  bronze  drapery  that  Michael  Angelo's  orig- 
inal idea  of  a  "Risen  Lord"  is  all  but  lost.  The 
stiff  loin-cloth  gives  the  effect  of  a  stocky,  gross 
figure — an  entirely  physical  resurrection — that  is 

[79] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

foreign  to  the  great  master's  spiritual  insight  of 
Redemption. 

The  Arch  of  Titus  is  one  of  the  most  unique 
monuments  in  Rome.  One  wonders  if  Emperor 
Titus  realised  what  he  was  doing  for  the  world 
when  he  had  the  "Seven-branched  Candlesticks" 
(Fig.  48)  carved  on  this  famous  arch  of  triumph. 
This  relief  is  the  only  picture  showing  the  exact 
shape  of  that  unique  piece  of  furniture  of  the  Old 
Tabernacle  and  of  Solomon's  Temple.  When 
Titus  came  back  to  Rome,  after  the  destruction  of 
the  Holy  City,  in  A.  D.  70,  he  not  only  brought 
twelve  thousand  Jews  as  captives  but  the  furnish- 
ings of  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem.  To  celebrate 
this  great  victory  Titus  compelled  these  Jews  to 
march  in  triumphal  processions  and,  as  years  went 
on,  he  forced  them  to  work  on  the  arch  that  was 
to  stand  as  a  memorial  of  their  defeat — the  Arch 
of  Titus  on  the  Via  Sacra,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Palatine  Hill.  For  years  after  the  arch  was  com- 
pleted (Titus  did  not  live  to  see  it  finished)  an 
annual  celebration  was  held,  and  the  Jews  were 
obliged  to  form  in  line  and  march  through  the  arch 
to  keep  in  mind  their  overthrow  and  to  humiliate 
them  in  the  eyes  of  the  Romans. 

The  arch  was  originally  built  of  Pentalic  marble 
but  only  the  interior  casing  with  its  precious  reliefs 
is  left  to-day.  On  one  side  in  low  relief  is  the 
"Seven-branched  Candlestick,"  borne  by  a  tri- 

[so] 


• 

ol 


48.     The  Seven  Branched  Candlesticks.     Arch  of  Titus,  Rome. 


49.     Relief  of  Pig,  Sheep,  and  Bull.    Roman  Forum,  Rome. 


ROME 

umphal  procession.  Until  recently  it  was  believed 
that  the  candlestick  and  other  furnishings  were 
thrown  into  the  Tiber,  but  research  has  proved 
that  these  spoils  were  first  placed  in  the  temple 
of  Peace,  Rome,  where  they  remained  nearly  four 
hundred  years.  Then  they  were  carried  to  Car- 
thage by  the  Vandal  King  Genseric;  after  nearly  a 
century  they  were  taken  to  Constantinople,  and 
from  there  were  sent  back  to  the  Christian  church 
at  Jerusalem.  They  were  again  brought  to  notice 
A.  D.  614,  when  Khosroes,  king  of  Persia,  took 
Jerusalem  and  claimed  them  as  part  of  his  spoil. 
Since  then  all  trace  of  them  has  been  lost. 

Wandering  in  the  Forum  Romanum  one  finds 
many  interesting  statues  and  reliefs,  turned  up  by 
the  excavator's  shovel,  that  help  to  form  vivid  pic- 
tures of  the  decorations  on  temples,  colonnaded 
courts  and  public  buildings  that  once  stood  in  the 
famous  market  and  meeting-place.  The  relief  of 
a  procession  of  a  "Pig,  Sheep,  and  Bull"  (Fig.  49) , 
on  a  balustrade,  fully  justifies  Raphael's  expecta- 
tions. He  proposed,  as  early  as  1519,  to  restore 
the  Forum  and  reclaim  the  art  treasures  buried 
there.  The  work  was  really  begun,  but  nothing 
was  brought  to  light  and  the  plan  was  dropped  for 
three  centuries,  until  the  enterprise  of  the  nineteenth 
century  again  began  the  work.  When  one  realises 
that  the  ancient  pavement  of  the  Forum  was  at 
least  forty  feet  below  the  present  street  level,  one 
[81] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

is  not  greatly  surprised  at  the  time  taken  to  uncover 
the  hidden  treasures.  Of  the  statues  brought  to 
light,  there  are  a  number  of  interesting  though 
broken  ones  now  standing  to  the  right,  about  half 
way  to  the  arch  of  Titus,  and  among  the  number 
one  of  the  "Prefect"  (Fig.  50),  that  compares 
favourably  with  the  best  art  of  the  classic  Roman 
period. 

In  the  Museum  of  the  Lateran  is  a  "Marsyas" 
(Fig.  51)  that,  if  it  had  been  properly  restored, 
would  be  one  of  the  best  suggestions  of  Myron's 
famous  "Marsyas,"  mentioned  by  Pliny.  The 
statue  was  found  in  an  ancient  studio  in  Rome,  sur- 
rounded by  other  pieces,  some  of  them  with  the 
sculptor's  tools  still  in  them.  In  this  figure  Mar- 
syas seems  to  be  dancing  to  the  music  of  his  casta- 
nets. This  is  an  erroneous  idea  of  the  satyr,  if 
the  stories  about  him  are  true.  Athena  loved  music 
and  invented  the  flute.  But  when  Eros,  the  little 
fraud,  saw  her  he  laughed  at  her  puckered  mouth 
and  funny  face.  This  she  could  not  stand,  even 
from  so  lovely  a  mischief,  so  she  threw  the  instru- 
ment from  her.  Marsyas,  seeing  it  fall  on  earth, 
ran  and  picked  it  up  and  began  making  music  so 
ravishing  that  he  even  challenged  Apollo — the 
audacious  satyr!  Of  course  he  was  worsted  in 
the  contest  and  was  flayed  alive  for  his  presump- 
tion. But  some  people  believe  that  as  he  stooped 
to  pick  up  the  discarded  flute  Athena  appeared  be- 

[82] 


ROME 

fore  him  and  he,  affrighted,  started  back  in  dismay. 
Myron  must  have  believed  the  latter  story,  for  the 
face  of  this  satyr  shows  more  fright  than  merry- 
making. In  the  original  bronze  there  was  no 
support,  which  intensified  the  backward  leap  of  the 
frightened  creature  (see  bronze  Marsyas,  Fig. 

151). 

A  portrait  statue  of  remarkable  beauty  in  the 
Lateran  is  that  of  "Sophocles"  (Fig.  52).  This 
undoubtedly  is  one  of  the  very  finest  ancient  por- 
trait statues  in  the  world.  It  is  a  well-known  fact 
that  Lycurgus,  between  343  and  329  B.  C.,  directed 
the  restoration  of  the  Temple  of  Dionysos,  built 
in  Athens  during  the  fourth  century  B.  C.,  and  that 
at  his  proposal  were  set  up  bronze  statues  of  the 
three  tragedians — ^Eschylus,  Euripides  and  Sopho- 
cles. A  few  years  ago  when  the  Theatre  of 
Dionysos  was  uncovered,  on  the  southern  slope  of 
the  Acropolis,  there  were  found  many  pedestals, 
but  so  far  no  remnants  of  the  statues  they  held. 
It  is  possible,  however,  that  this  statue  of  Sophocles 
is  a  marble  copy  of  one  of  the  three  bronze  originals 
ordered  by  Lycurgus.  The  statue  was  found  be- 
fore 1839  in  Terracina,  a  frontier  town  between 
central  and  southern  Italy.  If  this  is  a  portrait- 
statue  of  the  tragic  poet,  who  stood  as  the  literary 
representative  of  the  age  of  Pericles,  then  we  gain 
a  little  conception  of  how  ideally  beautiful  in  dig- 
nity of  carriage,  in  purity  of  expression,  in  loftiness 

[83] 


WHAT   SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

of  intellect,  and  in  power  of  command  was  Sopho- 
cles !  It  is  not  surprising  that  such  a  man  brought 
the  Greek  drama  to  the  highest  point  of  perfection, 
and  that  no  writer,  ancient  or  modern,  has  ever 
surpassed  his  elevation  of  thought  and  purity  of 
style. 


[84] 


& 


CHAPTER   VIII 
FLORENCE— THE  UFFIZI   GALLERY 


'"T^HE  most  pathetic  group  of  statuary  in  all 
-•-  sculpture  was  made  by  Scopas  in  the  fourth 
century  B.  C.  of  "Niobe  and  her  Dying  Children." 
Though  the  original  is  entirely  lost  and  the  frag- 
mentary group  of  copies  is  made  up  on  separate 
pieces,  most  of  them  in  Florence,  yet  the  effect  even 
of  those  broken  pieces  is  overwhelming  and  our 
hearts  cry  out  in  sympathy  for  the  afflicted  mother 
and  her  dying  children.  The  story  of  Niobe  is 
pitiful  in  its  very  humanness.  What  mother  would 
not  be  overproud  of  fourteen  well  formed,  beau- 
tiful children ! 

Niobe  was  the  queen  of  Thebes;  but  it  was  not 
her  position  that  made  her  vainglorious,  it  was 
her  seven  sons  and  seven  daughters;  it  was  not 
her  pride  that  brought  her  to  grief,  but  her  boast- 
ing. The  goddess  Latona  and  her  two  children, 
Apollo  and  Artemis  (Diana),  were  the  special 
guardians  of  Thebes,  and  once  a  year  the  people 
paid  their  vows  at  the  altar  of  these  deities.  At 
one  of  these  celebrations  Niobe  came  attired  in 
gorgeous  raiment,  as  became  a  queen,  and  wearing 
jewels  of  gold  and  precious  gems.  She  looked  with 

[85] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

anger  and  haughty  pride  on  the  laurel-crowned 
people  carrying  frankincense  for  the  ceremonies. 

"What  folly  is  this!"  she  cried,  "to  prefer  be- 
ings whom  you  never  saw  to  those  who  stand  be- 
fore your  eyes !  Why  should  Latona  be  honoured 
with  worship  and  none  be  paid  me?  Will  you 
prefer  to  me  this  Latona,  the  Titan's  daughter, 
with  her  two  children?  I  have  seven  times  as 
many."  Thus  she  went  on  reviling  the  pretensions 
of  the  goddess  with  her  two  offspring  and  glorying 
in  her  own  strength  with  her  fourteen,  until  in  a 
perfect  frenzy,  she  threw  off  all  caution  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"Away  with  you  from  these  solemnities!  Put 
off  the  laurel  from  your  brows !  have  done  with  this 
worship!"  The  people  obeyed  and  the  offering 
to  their  deities  was  left  unfinished. 

But  the  goddess  Latona,  though  unseen,  could 
hear.  Her  anger  burned  hot  against  such  taunts 
from  human  lips.  She  called  her  son  and  daughter 
and  began  recounting  Niobe's  vauntings;  scarcely 
had  she  begun  to  speak  before  Apollo  and  Artemis 
exclaimed:  "Say  no  more,  mother,  speech  only  de- 
lays punishment,"  and  then  were  off.  Shielded 
from  view  by  the  clouds,  they  alighted  on  the 
towers  of  Thebes  unseen,  and  soon  spied  Niobe's 
sons  at  their  field  sports.  One  after  the  other  of 
the  innocent  victims  was  laid  low  by  Apollo's  aveng- 
ing arrows.  If  only  Niobe  could  have  bridled  her 

[86] 


FLORENCE 

boastful  tongue  in  her  anguish,  her  daughters  might 
have  been  spared. 

"Cruel  Latona,"  she  cried,  "feed  full  your  rage 
with  my  anguish!  Yet  where  is  your  triumph? 
Bereaved  as  I  am,  I  am  still  richer  than  you,  my 
conqueror."  Foolish  woman!  scarcely  were  the 
words  spoken  when  the  sisters,  mourning  over  the 
biers  of  their  dead  brothers,  dropped  one  by  one 
as  the  arrows  pierced  them.  One  only  remained, 
clinging  to  her  mother  for  safety  (Fig.  53) .  Too 
late  Niobe  pleaded,  "Spare  me  one,  and  that  the 
youngest !  O,  spare  me  one  of  so  many  1"  but  that 
one,  too,  fell  dead. 

Marvellous  indeed  is  this  pleading  mother  shield- 
ing her  one  remaining  child!  Plead  she  did,  but 
never  flinched.  Even  when  all  were  gone,  no 
paroxysms  of  grief  overcame  her.  The  calm  re- 
pose of  a  terrible  grief  overshadowed  her  until 
her  whole  being  stiffened  and  she  became  as  stone, 
with  only  flowing  tears  to  tell  of  her  sorrow.  And 
to  this  day  she  stands  on  her  native  mountain,  a 
mass  of  rock  over  which  trickles  a  tiny  stream, 
symbolising  her  unceasing  grief. 

Most  of  the  statues  of  the  Niobe  group  were 
found  outside  the  Porta  San  Giovanni,  at  Rome, 
in  1583,  and,  bought  by  the  Medici,  were  placed 
by  Cardinal  Ferdinand  de'  Medici  in  his  villa  on 
the  Monte  Pincio.  In  1771  they  were  trans- 
ferred to  Florence,  and  in  1794  were  put  in  the 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

Uffizi  Gallery.  At  first  these  broken  pieces  were 
thought  to  be  originals  by  Scopas  or  Praxiteles,  but 
since  genuine  Greek  works  have  been  found,  these 
are  relegated  to  the  place  of  excellent  Roman  re- 
productions of  an  original  by  Scopas.  Not  all  of 
the  Florentine  Niobe  statues  are  the  best  of  these 
reproductions,  as  those  in  the  Vatican  bear  witness 
(see  page  49).  "The  Fleeing  Son"  (Fig.  54),  in 
Florence,  is  without  the  figure  of  the  sister,  but 
the  stretched-out  left  arm,  with  its  protecting  hand 
and  the  shielding  drapery  on  the  uplifted  right 
arm,  both  point  to  the  Vatican  group  as  the  cor- 
rect one.  All  the  seven  sons  are  represented  in 
this  group,  but  only  two  of  the  daughters ;  only  five 
have  ever  been  identified.  There  is  some  question 
as  to  there  having  been  more  than  twelve  children 
in  the  story. 

The  statue  of  "The  Pasdagog"  (Fig.  55),  com- 
pare it  with  the  "Paedagog  and  Boy,"  in  the 
Louvre  (Fig.  114),  is  a  beautiful  example  of  the 
Greek  custom  in  high-born  families  of  always  hav- 
ing a  pedagogue  or  slave  attend  the  youngest  son. 
In  the  Louvre  group  the  right  arm  and  hand  are 
antique.  The  tender  grasp  of  the  frightened  child's 
arm  shows  the  loving  protection  the  slave  is  quick 
to  give  his  young  charge.  In  this  statue,  the  figure 
is  so  like  the  slave  with  the  boy  that  he  may  have 
formed  a  part  of  the  original  group.  Here  he 
starts  forward  as  though  to  shield  the  boy  with  his 
[88] 


FLORENCE 

own  body,  while  importuning  the  gods  for  the 
safety  of  his  charge. 

Let  us  look  once  again  at  the  grief-stricken 
mother.  There  is  something  superb  in  her  calm 
submission  to  the  inevitable.  No  representation  of 
Christian  fortitude  under  overwhelming  disaster 
could  show  more  of  the  divine  element  in  the  human 
soul  than  is  found  in  this  pagan  mother.  Then 
too,  how  magnificent  is  her  physique !  She  has 
reached  the  full  maturity  of  all  womanly  charms. 
And  in  contrast,  how  wondrously  sweet  the  girlish 
immaturity  of  the  clinging  child.  See  how  the  ten- 
der, quivering  flesh  under  the  filmy  covering  and 
the  contracting  toes  of  the  rigid  foot  express  the 
terror  that  fills  the  heart  of  the  child.  The  pathos 
of  this  group  brings  unbidden  tears,  yet  its  exquisite 
beauty  check  their  fall.  Perhaps  the  Niobe  myth 
originated  in  a  terrible' plague  that  swept  over  the 
land  and  rifled  every  home  of  its  treasures. 

In  the  Tribuna  of  the  Uffizi  Gallery  is  the  far- 
famed  and  much  discussed  "Venus  de'  Medici" 
(Fig.  56) — a  statue  that  has  been  very  much  over- 
estimated as  to  its  artistic  value.  It  no  doubt  is  a 
variation  of  Praxiteles'  "Aphrodite  of  Cnidus,"  but 
how  inferior  the  conception !  The  older  Aphrodite 
having  just  dropped  her  cloak  is  ready  to  step  into 
the  sea,  only  she  lingers  a  moment  with  a  far-off 
look  in  her  dreamy  eyes.  But  here  we  have  simply 
a  nude  figure,  beautiful  but  a  little  too  conscious  to 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

be  entirely  satisfactory.  The  motif  of  definite  pur- 
pose that  always  underlies  the  nude  in  all  classic 
Greek  art  is  the  secret  that  preserves  its  purity 
of  thought  and  execution.  A  goddess  stepping 
forth  for  the  bath  with  her  garment  fallen  by  her 
side  is  an  entirely  different  proposition  from  the 
same  goddess  coquetting  for  admiration — and  the 
Greek  artist  knew  it. 

It  is  still  a  disputed  question  whether  the  "Venus 
de'  Medici"  was  found  in  the  Gardens  of  Nero 
on  the  Tiber  or  in  the  Portico  of  Octavia;  the  in- 
scription on  it  ascribing  it  to  Cleomenes,  son  of 
Apollonius,  has  been  proved  a  fabrication  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  When  the  statue  was  taken 
to  Florence,  it  was  badly  broken,  and  after  1677 
was  restored  by  Ecole  Ferrata.  The  lean  fingers 
and  the  marred  surface  of  the  marble  are  evidences 
enough  that  he  was  not  equal  to  his  task. 

The  statue  of  the  "Slave  Sharpening  a  Knife" 
(Fig.  57),  often  called  the  "Grinder,"  is  another 
reference  to  the  Marsyas  myth.  The  statue  was 
found  in  Rome  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  be- 
longed to  the  same  group  with  the  red  marble 
"Marsyas,"  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  and  possibly  re- 
stored by  Donatello.  The  slave  is  grinding  the 
knife  to  take  the  skin  of  Marsyas  after  Apollo  had 
ordered  him  flayed  alive  for  his  presumption.  His 
skin  was  then  hung  in  the  cave  at  the  source  of 
the  river  Marsyas,  formed  by  the  satyr's  blood. 

[90] 


FLORENCE 

The  statue  in  the  Louvre  (Fig.  no)  shows 
poor  Marsyas  bound  to  a  tree.  The  two  statues, 
"The  Slave"  and  "Marsyas,"  associated  together, 
would  account  for  the  half-grin  and  "I'm  sorry  but 
it  must  be  done,"  expression  on  the  Scythian's  face 
as  he  prepares  his  knife  for  the  cruel  deed.  The 
realism  of  the  brutal  slave  and  the  tortured  satyr 
place  these  statues  at  least  in  the  Hellenistic  age 
of  Greece.  They  also  have  many  points  of  re- 
semblance to  the  Pergamon  marbles  and  may  have 
belonged  on  the  Asia  Minor  coast. 

The  "Group  of  Wrestlers"  (Fig.  58)  was 
found  on  the  same  site  with  the  Niobe  group,  near 
the  Lateran,  Rome,  and  at  first  was  thought  to 
be  a  part  of  the  latter,  but  was  finally  set  aside 
as  not.  The  heads  do  not  belong  to  the  "Wrestler 
Group"  and  the  legs  and  arms  are  largely  modern ; 
the  right  arm  of  the  victor  is  certainly  meaningless 
in  its  present  position. 

The  splendid  "Shepherd  Dog"  (Fig.  59)  is  a 
fine  example  of  the  representation  of  the  animal  in 
art  as  an  animal  pure  and  simple.  The  firm  set 
legs,  attentive  ears,  alert  eyes,  sensitive  nose  and 
responsive  mouth  are  those  of  an  intelligent  watch- 
dog, with  instinct  developed  to  its  fullest  extent. 
This  dog  belongs  to  that  famous  breed  of  shepherd 
dogs  of  Molossians,  an  ancient  race  of  people  who 
claimed  descent  from  Pyrrhus  the  son  of  Achilles. 
These  people  were  looked  upon  as  semi-barbarous, 

[90 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

yet  they  became  prominent  in  Epirus  in  northern 
Greece  and  in  the  fourth  century  B.  C.  their  kings 
ruled  that  whole  country. 

Also  note  the  "Wild  Boar,"  a  powerful  specimen 
of  that  ferocious  animal. 

Quite  recently  a  very  curious  discovery  has  been 
made  on  Benvenuto  Cellini's  statue  of  "Perseus 
with  the  Head  of  Medusa"  (Fig.  60),  that  stands 
in  the  Piazza  della  Signoria.  It  has  long  been 
known  that  there  was  a  face  on  the  back  of  the 
helmet  of  Perseus,  but  it  has  taken  these  four  hun- 
dred years  before  any  one  recognised  its  resem- 
blance to  Cellini's  own  portrait.  The  supposition 
is  that  the  sculptor  took  this  means  of  identifying 
himself  with  his  immortal  work — a  work  of  which 
Cellini  in  his  Memoirs  says,  after  stating  that  Mi- 
chael Angelo  was  too  far  advanced  to  do  such 
work,  "Therefore  I  think  I  am  justified  in  saying 
that  no  man  known  upon  this  earth  could  produce 
my  Perseus." 

The  figure  of  Perseus  was  made  by  Cellini  at 
the  command  of  Cosimo  de'  Medici  and  is  sup- 
posed to  symbolise  the  violent  end  of  the  Repub- 
lic of  France.  According  to  Cellini,  in  his  Mem- 
oirs, the  vicissitudes  of  sickness,  of  caprice  in  the 
duke  and  jealousies  of  "that  great  brute  of  a  Ban- 
denello,"  and  other  rivals,  this  masterpiece  of  his 
life  was  nine  years  in  the  making,  and  at  the  end 
scarcely  the  cost  of  the  material  was  allowed  him 

[92] 


FLORENCE 

by  the  duke.  But  Cellini,  by  nature  a  boaster,  re- 
lates such  marvellous  stories  of  injustice  done  him 
that  one  must  take  his  Memoirs  with  a  grain  of 
salt. 

Perseus  was  the  son  of  Zeus  and  Danae.  When 
he  was  born,  his  grandfather,  warned  by  an  ora- 
cle that  he  would  be  killed  by  his  grandson, 
set  him  and  his  mother  adrift  in  a  sealed  cask. 
They  were  rescued,  however,  by  a  fisherman  and 
Perseus  was  brought  up  by  Polydectes,  the  king 
of  the  country.  When  he  was  grown  to  manhood 
the  king  sent  him  to  destroy  Medusa.  With  the 
aid  of  Athena's  bright  shield  and  the  winged  shoes 
of  Hermes,  Perseus  slew  the  monster — the  once 
beautiful  maiden  now  become  a  monster.  It  is  at 
the  moment  of  lifting  the  head  on  high  that  Cellini 
has  chosen  in  his  statue  of  Perseus. 


[93] 


CHAPTER    IX 
FLORENCE— MICHAEL  ANGELO 

IY/TICHAEL  ANGELO  and  the  Medici  House 

-*•"-*•  dominated  Florence  in  the  sixteenth  century 
and  the  influence  of  both  is  still  felt.  When  the 
young  sculptor  returned  from  his  four  or  five 
years'  stay  in  Rome,  about  1500,  he  found  the 
consuls  of  Florence  agitated  over  a  piece  of  Car- 
rara marble  that  had  lain  in  the  yard  of  Santa 
Maria  del  Fiore  since  the  memory  of  man.  They 
were  unwilling  that  the  sculptor  Contucci  should 
use  it,  with  added  pieces  of  marble,  and  proposed 
to  Michael  Angelo  that  he  make  a  "David"  out  of 
it  alone.  The  huge  block,  eighteen  feet  in  length, 
was  originally  intended  for  a  prophet,  but  had 
been  spoiled  by  some  clumsy  workman  centuries 
gone  by.  Donatello  had  refused  it  at  least  a  hun- 
dred years  before  and  no  one  saw  any  possibilities 
in  the  ruined  monster.  But  when  the  offer  came 
to  Michael  Angelo,  he  at  once  saw  his  colossal 
shepherd  king,  the  "David,"  of  the  Academy  (Fig. 
61).  He  accepted  the  order  and  set  to  work  to 
finish  the  statue  in  two  years;  working  furiously, 
doing  every  stroke  himself,  often  sleeping  in  his 
clothes  to  be  ready  for  work  at  the  first  peep  of 

[94] 


FLORENCE 

day.  He  had  no  model  except  a  small  wax  one 
still  kept  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery.  "David"  (Fig. 
61)  was  held  so  close  in  the  block  that  the  original 
rough  surface  is  left  on  top  of  his  head  and  his  left 
foot  and  his  right  elbow  scarcely  escape  being 
rough.  Simple  and  natural  stands  the  shepherd 
boy.  His  large  hands  and  feet  and  joints  show 
how  perfectly  Michael  Angelo  knew  the  anatomy 
of  a  growing  boy — awkward  and  ill  at  ease  except 
when  roused  to  action  by  an  inward  idea. 

Where  to  place  the  finished  statue  was  quite  a 
serious  question.  Such  artists  as  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  Roselli,  Botticelli,  Filippo  Lippi,  Lorenzo  di 
Credi,  and  the  aged  Perugino  were  consulted,  but 
finally  the  decision  was  left  to  the  young  sculptor 
himself.  He  chose  the  public  square  to  the  left  of 
the  entrance  to  the  Palazzo  Vecchio — possibly  hav- 
ing in  mind  the  advice  he  gave  a  young  sculptor 
years  afterward: — "Do  not  trouble  yourself  about 
the  light  on  your  statue.  The  light  of  the  public 
square  will  test  its  value."  Donatello's  "Judith" 
was  removed  from  the  square  to  put  "David"  in 
the  chosen  spot.  The  colossal  statue,  three  times 
the  height  of  a  man  and  weighing  nine  tons,  was 
drawn  along  oiled  beams  from  the  sculptor's  studio 
to  the  square,  by  forty  men,  and  under  the  most  try- 
ing circumstances.  Intrigues  and  jealousies  were 
rife  in  Florence  so  that  guards  were  necessary,  and 
even  then  stones  were  thrown  at  night,  but  the 

[95] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

darkness  itself  was  a  protection  and  no  harm  came 
to  the  masterpiece.  For  four  centuries  it  stood  in 
the  public  square  with  no  covering  save  the  blue 
sky  of  Italy,  an  honour  to  Michael  Angelo  and  the 
pride  and  joy  of  his  beloved  city.  At  last  the 
ravages  of  time  compelled  the  citizens  of  Florence 
to  place  the  statue  in  the  Academy  of  Florence. 

Let  us  stand  before  the  Medici  tombs  in  the 
Medici  chapel  and  try  to  realise  some  of  the  trag- 
edies that  Michael  Angelo  worked  into  these  mar- 
vellous compositions,  especially  into  the  "Monument 
to  Giuliano  de'  Medici,"  with  its  statues  of  Day 
and  Night  (Fig.  62).  There  were  to  have  been 
four  monuments  for  the  New  Sacristy — built  by 
Michael  Angelo  for  Giulio  de'  Medici  (afterward 
Pope  Clement  VII)  in  1520  to  1524,  for  the  Me- 
dici family — but  it  was  ten  years  before  the  monu- 
ments were  begun,  and  then  only  two  were  finished. 
With  his  usual  rapidity  when  he  was  once  started 
at  work,  Michael  Angelo  in  one  year  finished  the 
"Night"  and  "Twilight"  and  had  "Dawn"  and 
"Day"  well  blocked  out.  Just  what  these  figures 
mean,  who  can  fathom?  but  we  do  know  that 
the  master  sculptor's  heart  was  full  of  anguish  at 
this  time  over  the  awful  tragedy  of  Savonarola  and 
the  terrible  conflict  that  was  rending  his  beloved 
Florence. 

The  unfinished  figure  of  "Day"  is  so  suggestive 
of  the  mysterious  powers  of  good  and  evil  bound 

[96] 


63.     Night  (detail).     Michael  Angelo.     New  Sacristy,  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence. 


FLORENCE 

up  in  the  human  soul  that  we  wonder  if  the  artist 
was  not  symbolising  the  secret  political  intrigues 
of  all  time.  The  veiled  figure  could  well  illustrate 
the  old  proverb,  "For  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth." 

"Night"  (Fig.  63)  seems  caught  by  some  un- 
seen power  in  a  slumber  so  profound  that  the 
strained,  though  not  unnatural  position  gives  no 
feeling  of  discomfort.  No,  she  is  not  beautiful, 
but  she  holds  us  by  some  magic  spell.  Note  how 
carefully  worked  out  is  every  detail  of  the  accesso- 
ries— the  mask,  the  owl,  the  poppy  capsule — and 
how  they  intensify  the  conception  of  night.  The 
lines  on  the  base  of  the  monument,  written  by 
Giovanni  Battista  Strozzi,  a  contemporary  poet, 
testify  to  the  appreciation  of  the  profound  sleeper: 

"The  Night  which  thou  beholdest,  bound  in  deep 
And  sweet  repose,  an  angel's  hand  did  hew 
Out  of  this  rock,  and,  though  she  is  asleep, 
Breathes:  doubt'st  thou?     Wake  her,  she  will  speak." 

Michael  Angelo,  having  in  mind  the  political  thral- 
dom Florence  was  passing  through,  made  the  statue 
reply:— 

'  'Tis  well  to  slumber,  best  to  be  of  stone, 

While  shame  endures  and  Florence  is  not  free; 
So  lest  I  waken,  ah !  subdue  thy  tone : 

Methinks  'tis  blessed  not  to  hear  or  see." 

The  statue  of  "Lorenzo  de'  Medici"  (Fig.  64), 
[97] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

above  "Twilight"  and  "Dawn,"  is  another  concep- 
tion of  "Meditation,"  a  companion  piece,  in  a  way, 
to  the  "Jeremiah"  of  the  Sistine  Chapel,  Rome. 
The  statue  was  not  intended  as  a  portrait  of  the 
Duke  of  Urbino  (Lorenzo  de'  Medici)  but  repre- 
sents the  reflective  element  that  keeps  the  human 
soul  in  touch  with  the  undertones  binding  together 
human  events.  This  is  in  direct  contrast  to  the 
ideal  statue  of  Giuliano  de'  Medici  (Fig.  62),  who 
is  represented  full  of  nervous  activity,  confident 
that  action  will  conquer  the  world. 

To  know  the  detailed  history  of  the  construction 
of  the  Medici  Mausoleum  in  Florence  and  the 
making  of  its  monuments,  would  make  clear  many 
incidents  in  the  troubled  life  of  Michael  Angelo  and 
also  give  a  fair  understanding  of  the  factions  that 
were  tearing  Italy  to  pieces. 

In  the  Bargello  (National  Museum)  are  several 
of  Michael  Angelo's  works.  Here  rests  his  unfin- 
ished "Victory,"  intended  for  the  tomb  of  Julius 
II ;  here  also  his  admirable,  though  unfinished,  bust 
of  Brutus,  a  late  work;  and  that  strange  composi- 
tion, for  him,  his  "Drunken  Bacchus"  (Fig.  65), 
made  for  Jacopo  Galli  in  1497,  when  he  was 
twenty-two.  It  is  hard  to  reconcile  this  bacchanalian 
figure  in  its  abandon  and  ignoble  attitude  with  the 
"Pieta,"  in  St.  Peter's  (Fig.  45),  made  at  almost 
the  same  time.  Only  as  we  believe  that  one  mir- 
rored the  degradation  of  the  people  under  the 

[98] 


3  If 

Sim 


FLORENCE 

reign  of  the  profligate  Pope  Alexander  VI  (Rod- 
rigo  Borgia),  and  the  other  the  sculptor's  religious 
convictions  awakened  by  the  preaching  of  Savona- 
rola is  it  possible  to  understand  these  two  master- 
pieces. 

This  "Bacchus"  bears  no  resemblance  to  that 
marvellous  "Dionysos,"  from  Herculaneum  (Fig. 
5).  Then  the  god  of  wine  was  looked  upon  as 
the  promoter  of  the  art  of  husbandry;  but  now,  two 
thousand  years  later,  Michael  Angelo  knew  that 
the  god  of  wine  had  become  the  promoter  of  de- 
bauchery. Never  for  one  moment,  however,  has 
the  young  sculptor  dropped  below  the  matchless 
standard  of  perfect  anatomic  modelling. 


[99] 


CHAPTER  X 
FLORENCE— BARGELLO 

MANY  of  Donatello's  single  pieces  are  in  the 
Bargello.  His  "St.  George"  (Fig.  66),  in 
marble,  is  full  of  the  courage  of  conviction — the 
courage  that  was  the  chief  characteristic  of  the 
saint,  as  told  of  him  in  history  and  legend.  Vasari 
says  of  this  statue,  "The  figure  of  St.  George  is 
armed  and  full  of  life.  The  beauty  of  youth  is  in 
the  face,  resolution  and  courage  in  the  weapons; 
a  terrible  vivacity  and  living  action  permeates  the 
marble."  Recalling  the  story  of  St.  George,  one 
feels  how  truly  Donatello  has  represented  the 
spiritual  courage  that  filled  early  Christians,  where 
martyrdom  was  constantly  staring  them  in  the  face. 
The  facts  about  St.  George  are  very  meagre. 
His  parents  were  noble  people  and  Christians; 
George  was  a  tribune  in  the  army  under  Diocletian, 
and  was  martyred  when  the  emperor  discovered  his 
allegiance  to  the  Cross  of  Christ;  his  home  was 
probably  in  Cappadocia.  Now  legend  weaves  a 
wonderful  story,  always  the  same.  When  St. 
George  was  on  his  way  to  join  his  legion,  he  came 
to  a  city  that  was  in  great  distress  because  of  a 
monster  dragon  that  lived  in  a  marsh  near  by.  The 


ft* 

310 

2^ 
5 


FLORENCE  ''-•»' 

dragon  had  destroyed  so  many  of  the  domestic 
animals  that  the  people  shut  themselves,  with  their 
flocks  and  herds,  within  the  walls  of  the  city;  but 
to  keep  the  monster  at  bay  they  fed  him  two  sheep 
every  day.  When  the  animals  were  all  gone  they 
had  to  throw  out  two  children,  chosen  by  lot  and 
under  ten  years  old.  This  was  the  only  way  to 
keep  the  dragon  from  entering  the  city  and  de- 
stroying every  one. 

But  the  day  when  Cleodolinda,  the  king's 
daughter,  was  to  sacrifice  herself  to  the  dragon,  St. 
George  appeared  before  the  gates  of  the  city.  She 
was  just  fleeing  outside  the  walls  as  he  rode  up, 
and  when  he  saw  her  look  of  terror  and  the  tears 
streaming  down  her  face,  he  asked  what  was  the 
matter.  She  told  him  her  story,  but  implored  him 
to  flee  for  his  life.  He  replied,  "God  forbid  that 
I  should  fly!  I  will  lift  my  hand  against  this 
loathly  thing,  and  deliver  thee  through  the  power 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

On  the  base  of  the  Gothic  niche  where  this  statue 
of  St.  George  stands,  Donatello  has  pictured  in 
bas-relief  the  saint  in  a  fierce  struggle  with  the 
dragon,  and  Cleodolinda  is  witnessing  the  scene. 
She  is  dressed  in  the  princely  elegance  of  the 
antique  and  the  whole  scene  exemplifies  the  master's 
great  power  as  a  sculptor — even  Michael  Angelo, 
the  greater  artist,  could  not  surpass  Donatello  on 
his  own  ground,  sculpture.  The  result  of  St. 

[101] 


SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

George's  triumph  over  the  Dragon,  so  legend  says, 
was  that  twenty  thousand  people  of  the  city  were 
baptised  into  the  faith  that  day.  The  remainder 
of  the  saint's  life  was  full  of  miracles  and  conver- 
sions, but  he  was  finally  beheaded  and  very  early 
became  the  Great  Martyr  among  the  Greeks.  Not 
until  the  Crusades  was  he  taken  up  in  Europe,  and 
then  he  became  the  patron  saint  of  the  army  of 
England  and  to  his  honour  the  Order  of  the  Garter 
was  instituted  in  1330. 

The  fight  between  St.  George  and  the  Dragon 
has  been  the  theme  of  very  many  Christian  artists. 
His  story  is  much  like  that  of  the  Greek  gods, 
Apollo,  Perseus,  Bellerophon,  etc.,  and  his  destruc- 
tion of  the  heathen  temple  (one  of  his  achieve- 
ments) with  its  assembled  multitude  is  a  repetition 
of  Samson's  overthrow  of  the  Philistines  as  he 
made  sport  for  them. 

That  Donatello  was  just  as  true  in  character 
delineation  in  bronze  figures,  his  "David"  (Fig. 
67)  is  ample  proof.  This  was  one  of  his  first 
single  statues  in  which  he  has  entirely  broken  away 
from  an  architectural  setting  where  the  individual 
figure  is  subordinate  to  the  whole.  The  easy-posed 
youth  reminds  one  of  Praxiteles'  gods,  though  he 
is  none  the  less  a  human  hero.  This  "David"  was 
made  when  the  artist  was  about  twenty-one  (1405 
or  1406),  ten  years  before  his  St.  George.  The 
charm  of  this  bronze  boy  is  his  youthful  enthusiasm 

[  102] 


FLORENCE 

over  a  deed  accomplished.  The  half  smile  of  satis- 
faction as  he  glances  down  at  the  boastful  dead 
giant  is  so  boy-like  in  its  genuineness.  The  strong 
self-dependence  of  St.  George's  personality  is  lack- 
ing, but  David's  boyish  independence  wins  our 
hearts. 

Another  "David"  (Fig.  68),  in  the  Bargello, 
whose  individuality  attracts  us,  is  that  by  Verroc- 
chio.  Here  he  lacks  some  of  the  boyish  uncon- 
sciousness of  Donatello's  "David,"  yet  there  is  a 
pride  of  bearing  and  youthful  self-confidence  that 
marks  him  as  a  boy  hero.  This  bronze  statue, 
made  when  Michael  Angelo  was  a  year  old 
(1476),  has  much  of  the  nobility  of  bearing  that 
is  the  marked  characteristic  of  the  more  celebrated 
"David,"  of  the  Academy.  Here  "David"  holds 
himself  as  one  who  has  proved  that  he  is  no  vain 
boaster,  while  Michael  Angelo's  "David"  has  the 
mien  of  one  who  feels  that  the  deed  accomplished 
is  but  the  forerunner  of  greater  deeds. 

In  the  next  room  is  a  "Bust  of  Michael  Angelo," 
by  Daniele  da  Volterra.  The  profile  of  this  bust 
shows  the  master's  broken  nose — a  dastardly  deed 
done  by  the  arrogant  Piero  Torrigiani  and  boasted 
of  later.  Benvenuto  Cellini,  in  his  memoirs,  gives 
Torrigiani's  version  of  the  affair:  "This  Buo- 
narroti (Michael  Angelo)  and  I  used,  when  we 
were  boys,  to  go  into  the  Church  of  the  Carmen,  to 
learn  drawing  from  the  chapel  of  Masaccio.  It 

[103] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

was  Buonarroti's  habit  to  banter  all  who  were  draw- 
ing there ;  and  one  day,  among  others,  when  he  was 
annoying  me,  I  got  more  angry  than  usual,  and 
clenching  my  fist,  gave  him  such  a  blow  on  the 
nose,  that  I  felt  bone  and  cartilage  go  down  like 
biscuit  beneath  my  knuckles;  and  this  mark  of 
mine  he  will  carry  with  him  to  the  grave."  At 
the  time  Torrigiani  told  this  to  Cellini  he  was 
seeking  young  artists  to  go  with  him  to  England 
to  work  on  the  tomb  of  Henry  VII,  in  Westmin- 
ster Abbey,  but  Cellini  was  so  angry  because  he 
boasted  of  breaking  Michael  Angelo's  nose  that 
he  refused  to  go,  though  the  offer  promised  money 
and  renown. 

Near  the  bust  is  the  well-known  "Mercury" 
(Fig.  69),  by  Giovanni  da  Bologna.  There  is  not 
an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  on  the  slender,  well- 
poised  figure.  Every  muscle  and  tendon  quivers 
with  motion,  while  the  spread  wings  on  feet  and 
cap  mark  his  swift  flight.  He  is  equally  at  home 
speeding  over  the  ground  or  sailing  through  the 
air.  What  a  pity  that  Bologna  could  not  have  seen 
that  his  wind-god  base  was  unnecessary,  for  he  has 
embodied  the  very  essence  of  motion  in  this  mes- 
senger of  the  gods. 

When  the  second  set  of  gates  were  made  for  the 
Baptistery,  Florence,  Brunelleschi  and  Ghiberti 
entered  into  the  contest  with  competitive  panels. 
These  panels,  "The  Sacrifice  of  Abraham,"  by 

[  104] 


FLORENCE 

Brunelleschi  (Fig.  70),  and  "The  Sacrifice  of 
Abraham,"  by  Ghiberti  (Fig.  71),  now  in  the 
Bargello,  mark  the  beginnings  of  Renaissance 
Sculpture,  and  even  in  these  a  decided  advance  is 
made  by  Ghiberti,  the  younger  man.  The  exag- 
gerated action,  even  to  brutality,  of  Brunelleschi 
in  Abraham's  preparation  for  the  sacrifice  is  offset 
by  the  calmer  movements  of  the  patriarch  in  Ghi- 
berti's  panel.  In  the  first  the  angel  is  forced  to 
grasp  the  arm  of  Abraham  to  stay  the  descending 
knife,  but  in  Ghiberti's,  who  follows  more  closely 
the  old  Hebrew  story,  "The  angel  of  the  Lord 
called  unto  him  out  of  heaven,  and  said,  Abraham, 
Abraham;  and  he  said,  Here  am  I.  And  he  said, 
Lay  riot  thine  hand  upon  the  lad :  .  .  .  and  Abra- 
ham lifted  up  his  eyes  and  looked,  and  behold 
behind  him  a  ram  caught  in  the  thicket  by  his 
horns." 

The  final  decision  as  to  the  merit  of  the  two 
panels  was  really  made  by  Brunelleschi  himself 
for,  when  he  saw  Ghiberti's  panel,  he  withdrew 
from  the  contest,  avowing  that  his  work  was  not 
equal  to  that  of  Ghiberti's.  Vasari  reports  the 
verdict  at  that  time  "that  the  rival  plate  of  Bru- 
nelleschi, being  made  in  several  pieces  of  bronze, 
proves  his  ignorance  of  the  art  of  casting."  Ghi- 
berti's is  cast  in  a  single  piece  of  metal. 

We  learn  from  Ghiberti's  own  words  how  care- 
fully he  studied  nature  and  what  pains  he  took 

[105] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

to  reproduce  what  he  saw.  He  says: — "I  sought 
to  understand  how  forms  strike  upon  the  eye,  and 
how  the  theoretic  part  of  graphic  and  pictorial  art 
should  be  managed,  working  with  utmost  diligence 
and  care,  I  introduced  into  some  of  my  composi- 
tions as  many  as  a  hundred  figures,  which  I  mod- 
elled upon  different  planes,  so  those  nearest  the  eye 
might  appear  larger  and  those  more  remote  smaller 
in  proportion."  Even  in  this  single  panel  one  feels 
Ghiberti's  sense  of  proportion  and  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  nature;  the  foreground,  the  middle  distance, 
and  the  background  are  as  accurately  preserved  as 
though  painted  on  canvas.  The  two  scenes — the 
waiting  men  with  the  donkey  and  Abraham  stayed 
by  the  angel — are  in  perfect  accord  with  each  other. 
Then,  too,  his  sense  of  the  beauty  of  face  and  form 
is  shown  in  the  boy  Isaac;  the  innocent  way  he 
throws  back  his  head  as  though  still  wondering 
what  his  father  means  by  acting  so  strangely.  But 
to  understand  the  significance  of  the  rules  laid  down 
by  Ghiberti  for  the  working  in  metal,  one  must 
examine  the  Baptistery  Gates. 


[106] 


a 
.2 


II 


.<  / 


I 


CHAPTER    XI 
FLORENCE— MISCELLANEOUS 

really  appreciate  Ghiberti's  work  one  must 
remember  that  he  and  his  brother  artists,  Bru- 
nelleschi  and  Donatello,  had  inaugurated  an  inde- 
pendent movement  in  religious  art  and  that  now 
the  treatment  of  Bible  subjects  was  no  longer  under 
the  control  of  the  church.  These  artists  stood  ready 
to  fill  commissions  for  religious  subjects,  but  they 
had  the  temerity  to  insist  on  using  their  own  indi- 
viduality as  to  how  the  work  should  be  done,  and 
consequently  a  new  era  of  art  dawned  in  Italy 
and  the  Renaissance  became  an  established  fact. 

In  November,  1403,  Ghiberti  received  the  com- 
mission for  his  first  Baptistery  gates  and,  in  the 
year  1424,  after  twenty  years  of  work,  they  were 
hung  in  place  on  the  north  side  to  guard  the  prin- 
cipal entrance  of  the  Baptistery.  Twenty  of  the 
subjects  depicted  are  taken  from  the  life  of  Christ, 
and  the  remaining  eight  are  scenes  from  the  lives 
of  the  church  fathers.  That  same  year,  1424, 
Ghiberti  began  work  on  the  second  set  ordered  by 
the  Signoria.  Again  twenty  years  elapsed  before 
his  task  was  completed  and  the  gates  were  ready. 
In  the  scenes  on  the  second  gates  Ghiberti  adopted 
[107] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

Brunelleschi's  new  system  of  perspective  in  paint- 
ing and,  with  his  brush  of  steel,  perfected  pictures 
in  bronze  that  in  the  hands  of  a  lesser  man  would 
have  been  failures.  Like  Michael  Angelo  a  hun- 
dred years  later,  Ghiberti  dared  and  succeeded 
where  his  followers  dared  and  failed.  It  is  little 
wonder  then  that  Michael  Angelo  exclaimed  upon 
first  seeing  the  gates,  "They  are  fit  to  be  the  gates 
of  Paradise." 

The  scenes  for  the  second  gates  are  from  the  Old 
Testament.  Each  scene  of  the  twenty-eight  sec- 
tions is  a  perfect  little  genre  picture  in  bronze.  In 
the  fourth  panel  Ghiberti  has  incorporated  the  sac- 
rifice of  Isaac,  the  subject  of  his  competitive  panel, 
with  two  earlier  incidents  in  the  life  of  Abraham — 
the  appearance  of  the  three  angels  and  Hagar  and 
Ishmael  in  the  desert  (Fig.  72).  These  stones  are 
a  little  harder  to  manage  pictorially  and  keep  chron- 
ological, but  Ghiberti  was  equal  to  the  work. 
Notice  how  completely  he  has  subordinated  the  two 
scenes  in  the  foreground  to  the  sacrifice,  the  culmi- 
nating incident  in  the  development  of  Abraham's 
faith.  The  tall  trees  bordering  the  hillside  act  as 
screens  to  minimize  the  angel's  visit  while  they 
intensify  the  sacrifice  on  the  hilltop  farther  away. 
Naturally  our  eye  follows  upward  the  trend  of 
the  rocks  and  the  stately  tree  tops  until  it  rests  upon 
the  point  of  intensest  action. 

Now  compare  the  artist's  treatment  of  the  sacri- 
[108] 


FLORENCE 

ficial  scene  with  "The  Story  of  Cain  and  Abel"  in 
the  second  panel  (Fig.  73),  and  notice  how  natur- 
ally our  eye  seeks  out  the  main  tragedy  and  then 
moves  on  to  the  more  restful  scene  of  common- 
place work.  This  panel,  "Cain  and  Abel,"  is  one 
of  the  most  vivid  in  its  realism,  yet  one  of  the 
most  ideal  in  its  conception.  Ghiberti  thoroughly 
understood  nature's  great  out-of-doors.  In  tracing 
the  story  of  these  first  brothers  from  early  boyhood, 
through  the  sacrifice,  the  murder  and  tilling  the 
ground,  each  scene  is  presented  in  detail,  yet  with 
successive  steps  in  perspective  until  the  men  and 
oxen  in  the  foreground  in  high  relief  fairly  startle 
us  with  the  warmth  of  their  presence.  Real  plough- 
ing could  be  done  with  that  yoke  of  oxen,  for  they 
have  the  strength  of  the  soil.  See  how  realistically 
the  nigh  ox  tosses  his  head  in  response  to  the  spoken 
command!  Could  anything  be  more  exquisitely 
natural  than  the  shepherd  dog  watching  the  flock 
of  sheep  on  the  left?  In  the  decorated  border 
around  the  panels  are  prophets  and  sibyls  and  por- 
traits; among  the  latter,  the  conspicuous  bald- 
headed  man  is  the  artist  himself. 

An  interesting  glimpse  of  Florence  at  the  time 
Ghiberti  made  his  gates  is  given  in  a  public  notice 
dated  January  7,  1407;  it  reads: — "All  working 
at  the  doors  of  San  Giovanni — Baptistery — (are 
licensed)  to  go  about  Florence  at  all  hours  of  the 
night,  but  always  carrying  lamps  lighted  and  visi- 

[  109] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

ble."  What  familiar  figures  Ghiberti  and  his 
workmen  must  have  been  along  the  dark  streets 
the  half  century  those  marvellous  gates  were  in 
process  of  making!  and  how  often  a  poor  belated 
wanderer  must  have  blessed  the  tiny  light  that 
came  from  the  friendly  lamps. 

When  Ghiberti  had  finished  his  second  set  of 
gates,  it  was  a  serious  question  where  to  put  them. 
The  most  conspicuous  place  was  opposite  the  cathe- 
dral where  Andrea  Pisano's  gates  for  a  hundred 
years  had  guarded  the  entrance  to  the  Baptistery. 
But  it  was  decreed  by  the  authorities  that  the  older 
gates  must  give  place  to  the  new  masterpiece  and 
today  Ghiberti's  second  set  of  gates  face  the  cathe- 
dral, while  Pisano's  gates  are  on  the  south  side, 
where  we  will  now  examine  them  more  closely. 

The  scenes  represented  are  from  the  life  of  John 
the  Baptist  and  allegorical  figures  of  various  vir- 
tues. We  are  struck  at  once  with  the  few  figures 
Andrea  uses  in  telling  his  stories.  Their  simplicity 
is  charming.  Look  at  uZacharias  Naming  the  Lit- 
tle St.  John")  (Fig.  74).  The  artist,  in  his  crisp 
concise  manner,  has  told  the  story  in  true  gospel 
spirit:  "And  he  asked  for  a  writing  tablet,  and 
wrote,  saying,  His  name  is  John.  And  they 
marvelled  all.  And  his  mouth  was  opened  im- 
mediately, and  his  tongue  loosed,  and  he  spake, 
and  praised  God."  St.  Luke  i.  63,  64.  In  the 
halo  around  the  head  of  the  woman  holding  the 
[no] 


74. 


Zacharias  Naming  the  Little  St.  John.    Andrea  Pisano  (1270- 
1345).     South  Doors,  Baptistry,  Florence. 


75.     Jubal  at  Tent  Door.     Giotto,  Campanile,  Florence. 


Singing  Boys  (Lower  Panel).     Donatello. 
Florence. 


Cathedral  Museum, 


77. 


Singing   Boys    (Lower  Panel). 
Robbia    (1399-1482). 


Luca   della 
Cathedral 
Museum,  Florence. 


FLORENCE 

baby,  Andrea  has  preserved  that  very  old  tradition 
that  Mary  stayed  with  her  cousin  Elizabeth  until 
after  the  birth  of  little  John.  This  tradition  was 
recognised  by  the  early  northern  masters,  as  seen 
in  Van  der  Weyden's  painting  of  the  "Naming  of 
St.  John,"  in  the  Berlin  gallery. 

When  the  gates  were  put  in  place  opposite  the 
cathedral  ( 1336) ,  Pisano  was  granted  the  freedom 
of  the  city  of  Florence.  This  was  a  great  honour, 
for  it  raised  the  artist  from  being  simply  the  beau- 
tifier  of  a  building  to  the  place  of  public  benefac- 
tor— and  rightly  so,  for  one  who  educates  the 
finer  qualities  of  the  public  mind  is  truly  a  bene- 
factor. 

Andrea  Pisano  and  Giotto  were  close  friends 
while  the  latter  was  building  his  famous  Campanile. 
They  worked  together,  these  two  men  and  Luca 
della  Robbia  and  Donatello,  on  this  "Lily  of 
Florence."  Giotto  designed  and  the  others  exe- 
cuted most  of  the  work.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to 
designate  just  which  reliefs  were  done  by  Giotto's 
own  hand,  though  Ruskin  in  his  "Shepherd's  Tow- 
er," believes  that  "Pastoral  Life"  (Fig.  75),  the 
centerpiece  of  the  west  side,  was  made  wholly  by 
him.  The  man  in  the  tent  door  is  Jubal,  the  father 
of  such  as  dwell  in  tents.  You  will  be  enthusiastic 
over  the  little  dog;  he  is  so  like  all  puppies  in  his 
pert  assumption  of  dignity.  To  watch  those 
wooden  sheep  is  a  great  accomplishment  to  him. 

[HI] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

Giotto  may  have  been  drawing  just  such  a  little 
dog,  his  own  companion,  on  the  flat  rock  when 
Cimabue  found  him  tending  his  sheep.  We  feel 
in  all  these  reliefs  that  Giotto  is  putting  into  the 
scenes  figures  that  have  come  under  his  own  ob- 
servation. 

We  will  now  go  into  the  Singing  Gallery  of  the 
Cathedral  Museum  and  see  Donatello  and  Luca 
della  Robbia's  "Singing  Boys."  Possibly  no 
marble  children  in  relief  are  better  known  the 
world  over  than  these  rollicksome  songsters.  Music 
and  dance  are  as  much  a  part  of  their  being  as 
the  murmur  and  sparkle  are  a  part  of  the  hillside 
brooklet  as  it  glides  over  its  stony  bed.  These 
creatures  of  mirth  live  and  breathe  music  and  dance. 
Possibly  Donatello  has  given  a  little  more  of  the 
spirit  of  the  woodland  faun  in  the  wilder  antics 
of  his  sprites  (Fig.  76),  but  Della  Robbia's  "Sing- 
ing Boys"  (Fig.  77)  lack  nothing  in  exuberance 
and  ease  of  motion.  We  bless  the  little  music- 
makers  with  all  our  heart !  In  comparing  the  two 
groups,  one  must  remember  that  Donatello  intend- 
ed his  panels  for  an  organ  balustrade  where  height 
would  counteract  any  apparent  inequality  in  per- 
spective that  shows  near  at  hand. 

There  was  never  a  sweeter  company  of  babies 
than  Andrea  della  Robbia's  jolly,  roly-poly  band 
stretching  across  the  front  of  the  Foundling  Hos- 
pital, Florence  (Fig.  78).  He  has  placed  each 

[112] 


FLORENCE 

wee  mite  in  his  own  circle  of  blue  and  white  and 
has  made  each  little  tot  as  individual  as  the  dar- 
ling in  our  own  home.  Such  a  welcome  to  the 
home  of  the  homeless  babies  has  made  Andrea 
della  Robbia's  bambinos  justly  famous.  For  five 
hundred  years  these  majolica  medallions  have  stood 
as  the  emblem  of  the  successful  care  of  homeless 
little  ones. 

Until  very  recently  the  babies  of  the  Foundling 
Hospital  were  brought  up  on  goats'  milk.  The 
goats  were  kept  near  at  hand  and  when  a  baby 
cried  for  its  milk  the  particular  goat  acting  as  its 
foster-mother  would  trot  off  to  the  wee  one  and 
nurse  it  as  though  it  were  its  own  little  kid.  The 
custom  has  been  abolished  and  the  bottle  system 
put  in  its  place.  Evidently  nature  and  science  con- 
flicted and  science  won  out — what  a  pity ! 

A  most  delightful  half  day  can  be  spent  in 
Florence  with  a  carriage  and  intelligent  driver 
searching  for  the  out-of-the-way  works  of  the  Delia 
Robbias.  Glorious  altar-pieces  gleam  out  in  filthy 
alleyways,  exquisite  madonnas  smile  down  from 
over  dark  doorways,  beautiful  medallions  in  crumb- 
ling walls  come  forth  clean  and  pure  from  their 
dust  coverings  of  ages.  One  is  sure  to  find  treas- 
ures unharmed  by  contact  with  the  crime  and  filth 
of  the  "other  half." 

A  particularly  fascinating  bit  of  genre  in  bronze 
is  the  "Boy  with  a  Dolphin"  (Fig.  79),  by  Ver- 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

rocchio  in  the  court  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio.  It  is 
all  the  more  interesting  because  it  was  unusual  for 
the  artist  to  portray  frolicsome  boyhood.  He  cer- 
tainly has  caught  the  very  essence  of  fun  in  this 
runaway,  with  his  slippery  fish.  One  would  not 
be  surprised  to  see  him  dance  off  his  standard  and 
fly  away  with  his  burden  regardless  of  his  duty 
as  water-carrier  in  the  court  fountain.  We  shall 
hear  of  Verrocchio  again  in  Venice  and  learn  to 
love  him  too  as  did  his  pupil,  Lorenzo  di  Credi, 
when  he  painted  his  portrait  for  the  pure  love  of 
his  master. 


is 

O.-55 


80.     Bronze  Horses.     St.  Mark's  Cathedral,  Venice 


CHAPTER   XII 
VENICE 

">"pHE  BRONZE  HORSES"  above  the  main 
•••  portal  of  San  Marco,  Venice  (Fig.  80), 
are  among  the  finest  pieces  of  ancient  bronze  work 
in  existence,  and  also  are  the  one  remaining  ex- 
ample of  the  ancient  quadriga.  It  is  possible  they 
are  Greek  works  of  the  school  of  Lysippus,  the 
fourth  century  B.  C.  They  are  made  of  Corin- 
thian brass  and  probably  fronted  a  temple  in 
Corinth.  They  were  brought  to  Rome  by  Min- 
nius  in  146  B.  C.,  when  he  had  completed  the 
Roman  conquest  of  Greece,  and  were  placed  in  the 
square  of  the  senate.  In  the  first  century  A.  D. 
they  adorned  the  arch  of  Nero  in  Rome  and  after- 
ward that  of  Trajan.  When  Constantine  changed 
the  name  of  old  Byzantium  to  his  name-sake  city 
of  Constantinople  (A.  D.  330) ,  he  took  the  bronze 
horses  to  crown  the  Hippodrome  of  Constanti- 
nople, the  new  Rome. 

For  nearly  a  thousand  years  the  Golden  Horn 
was  well  guarded  by  the  Bronze  Horses,  but  then 
came  Doge  Enrico  Dandolo  from  Venice,  1204, 
and  Constantinople  was  conquered.  The  horses 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

were  carried  off  to  Venice  and  set  up  above  the 
main  portal  of  the  Cathedral  of  San  Marco.  The 
"travelled  horses"  were  now  at  rest  for  nearly  four 
hundred  years,  then  Napoleon  passed  through 
Italy — "Veni,  vidi,  vici" — and  the  horses  were 
taken  to  Paris  and  placed  on  the  triumphal  arch 
of  the  Place  du  Carroussel.  This  position  of 
triumph  was  no  more  lasting  than  that  of  the  great 
Napoleon  himself.  In  1815,  when  European 
peace  was  established,  Emperor  Francis  I.  of  Aus- 
tria claimed  them,  and  when  Venetia  was  assigned 
to  him,  returned  the  horses  to  their  present  position 
above  the  portal  of  San  Marco. 

Let  us  hope  they  will  remain  in  their  present 
position,  for  no  place  in  Christendom  better  suits 
them.  Here  they  enjoy  the  free  air  of  heaven,  as 
though  still  in  their  native  desert,  and  here  they 
look  down  upon  one  of  the  most  charming  scenes 
that  was  ever  granted  horses  or  men  to  see.  Not 
only  man's  finest  handiwork  is  spread  out  before 
them,  but  one  of  Nature's  beautiful  creations,  a 
flock  of  pigeons,  circles  around  them  day  after 
day.  Special  honour  is  due  these  bronze  horses  in 
Venice,  for  in  this  queen  city  of  the  Adriatic  a 
live  horse  is  unknown. 

As  we  wander  through  the  narrow  streets  of 

Venice — if  the  flagstone-paved  alleys  can  be  called 

streets — we  come  rather  unexpectedly  upon  a  little 

piazza  facing  the  church  of  SS.  Giovanni  e  Paolo, 

[116] 


VENICE 

and  find  before  us  Verrocchio's  marvellous  "Eques- 
trian Statue  of  Colleoni  and  his  Horse"  (Fig.  81). 
Ruskin  writes: — "I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  more 
glorious  work  of  sculpture  existing  in  the  world 
than  the  equestrian  statue  of  Bartolomeo  Colleoni." 
This  is  extravagant  praise,  yet,  regardless  of  cor- 
rect equine  anatomy,  Verrocchio  has  breathed  a 
martial  spirit  into  the  horse  that  has  made  him  a 
fit  companion  to  a  great  general. 

Colleoni,  one  of  the  great  generals  of  the  fif- 
teenth century,  left  at  his  death,  in  1475,  tne  larger 
part  of  his  great  wealth  to  the  Republic  of  Venice, 
with  the  request  that  a  bronze  equestrian  statue 
should  be  made  of  himself  and  set  up  in  the  Piazza 
of  San  Marco.  The  Signoria  was  gracious  enough 
to  carry  out  the  first  part  of  the  request  but  found 
a  loophole  in  a  law  against  placing  a  statue  in  the 
great  Piazza  San  Marco  and  satisfied  their  con- 
science and  secured  the  fortune  by  placing  it  in 
the  piazza  of  the  Scuola  of  San  Marco. 

Three  artists  were  appointed  to  make  models 
for  the  statue  and  Verrocchio's  was  chosen  as  the 
finest.  As  he  was  a  Florentine,  certain  Venetians, 
jealous  of  his  fame,  plotted  against  him  until  the 
authorities  were  persuaded  to  withdraw  part  of 
the  order  and  only  allow  him  to  provide  the  horse, 
while  one  of  his  rivals  should  execute  the  great 
Colleoni.  Verrocchio  was  so  enraged  when  he 
heard  this  that  he  broke  up  his  model  and  returned 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

to  Florence.  When  the  Signoria  heard  he  had 
gone  they  sent  word  to  the  sculptor  that  if  he 
ever  dared  to  set  foot  in  Venice  again  he  would 
lose  his  head.  To  which  message  the  intrepid 
Verrocchio  replied  that  if  they  cut  off  his  head  it 
was  not  in  their  power  to  put  it  on  again,  but  that 
he  could  replace  the  head  on  the  broken  model 
of  the  horse  and — wily  man  that  he  was — added, 
"I  could  make  it  even  more  beautiful  than  it  was 
before."  Needless  to  say,  the  sculptor  was  or- 
dered to  return  to  Venice  and  finally  the  completed 
statue  was  uncovered  to  the  public  March  2ist, 
1496.  Verrocchio  lived  to  complete  only  the 
model,  and  at  his  death  disputes  and  false  claims 
almost  deprived  him  of  his  rights,  but  to-day  Ver- 
rocchio receives  all  the  glory. 

When  the  Campanile  of  Venice  collapsed,  July 
1 4th,  1902,  the  Loggetta  and  its  treasures  were 
buried  under  the  debris.  Fortunately  the  small 
bronze  statues  of  Peace,  Mercury,  Apollo,  and 
Pallas  were  very  little  injured,  and  the  broken 
material  of  the  waiting-room  could  be  pieced  to- 
gether; so  to-day  Jacopo  Sansovino's  masterpiece 
again  adorns  the  base  of  the  Campanile. 

Sansovino  added  the  Loggetta  and  its  dainty 
bronzes  to  the  Campanile  in  1540,  and  immediately 
this  waiting-room  became  the  favourite  meeting- 
place  of  the  Nobili,  and  here  they  discussed  va- 
rious questions — probably  the  artist's  work,  among 
[118] 


VENICE 

others.  Sansovino  has  left  his  individual  stamp  on 
more  buildings  in  Venice  than  any  other  artist. 
For  forty  years  his  success  was  phenomenal.  Only 
once  did  the  authorities  disapprove — he  was  held 
responsible  for  the  falling  in  of  the  Library  roof 
while  it  was  building — but  after  paying  a  heavy 
fine  and  four  years'  imprisonment  he  was  rein- 
stated in  public  favour. 

Sansovino's  "Mercury"  (Fig.  82),  in  the  Log- 
getta,  is  classic  in  its  simplicity,  yet,  excepting  the 
winged  cap,  there  is  nothing  to  distinguish  the 
god  from  a  wholesome  Italian  youth  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  It  may  be  that  the  curly  headed 
footstool  typifies  the  hundred-eyed  Argus  that  Mer- 
cury beheaded,  and  the  god's  attitude  of  pensive 
interest  may  be  due  to  his  witnessing  the  gradual 
transformation  of  the  beautiful  heifer  back  again 
into  the  lovely  illfated  lo — but  who  can  tell? 

Sansovino's  terracotta  group  of  the  Madonna 
and  Child  and  St.  John  was  broken  into  a  thou- 
sand pieces,  but  with  the  greatest  patience  the 
fragments  of  the  Madonna  and  Child  have  been 
pieced  together — the  little  St.  John  was  past  re- 
demption— and  can  now  be  seen  in  the  Loggetta. 

Let  us  examine  for  a  few  moments  the  bronze 
bases  of  the  flagstaffs  in  front  of  San  Marco. 
These  were  cast  by  Alessandro  Leopardi,  the  sculp- 
tor who  finished  the  Colleoni  equestrian  statue. 
Note  specially  the  medallions  on  the  central  base. 

[119] 


WHAT   SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

They  represent  Doge  Leonardo  Loredano,  and  are 
probably  taken  from  Giovanni  Bellini's  beautiful 
portrait  of  him  in  the  National  Gallery,  London 
(see  page  156  in  "What  Pictures  to  See  in  Eu- 
rope"). 

Again  and  again  the  "Winged  Lion  of  St. 
Mark"  (Fig.  83)  appears  in  Venice.  The  fig- 
ure of  special  significance  is  on  the  east  granite 
column  in  the  Piazzetta  facing  the  lagoon.  This 
granite  column  is  one  of  three  single  blocks  that 
were  brought  from  Tyre  in  1126  as  trophies,  after 
the  capture  of  that  city  from  the  Saracens  by  Doge 
Domenico  Michiel.  When  they  were  being  un- 
loaded at  the  Piazzetta  one  column  fell  into  the 
sea  and  probably  is  there  yet,  the  other  two  were 
landed  in  the  square,  where  they  lay  for  fifty  years 
waiting  for  some  genius  bright  enough  to  raise 
them  in  place.  Finally  a  Lombard,  Niccolo  "the 
blackleg,"  under  promise  of  receiving  whatever  he 
demanded,  raised  them  into  position  with  wetted 
ropes.  He  was  granted  his  petition — a  gaming 
table  between  the  columns.  But  the  Doge  and 
counsellors  outwitted  his  scheme  by  causing  all  pub- 
lic executions  to  be  made  there  too.  Naturally 
executions  and  a  gaming  table  were  not  congenial, 
and  pleasure  gave  place  to  punishment. 

The  lovely  capitals  of  the  columns  were  doubt- 
less carved  in  Venice  in  the  twelfth  century,  and 
the  winged  lion  of  St.  Mark  is  also  a  piece  of 
[  120] 


81. 


Statue  of  Bartolomeo  Colleoni.     Verrocchio 
of  San  Giovanni  e  Paolo,  Venice. 


Piazzi 


82.     Mercury.     Jacopo 
Sansovino  (1487-1570). 

Loggietta, 
Campanile,  Venice. 


83. 


Lion  of  St.  Mark. 
Column  in 
Piazzetta,  Venice. 


1J 
II 


VENICE 

ancient  native  bronze  work,  though  the  wings  are 
comparatively  modern. 

The  Lion  of  St.  Mark  is  symbolic  of  St.  Mark 
the  Evangelist,  the  patron  saint  of  Venice.  The 
symbols  representing  the  writers  of  the  Gospels 
are  among  the  earliest  in  Christian  art.  The  most 
common  of  these  represent  St.  John  as  an  eagle; 
St.  Luke  as  an  ox;  St.  Matthew  as  a  man;  and 
St.  Mark  as  a  lion.  These  symbols  are  taken  from 
the  account  of  the  four  beasts  in  Revelation,  iv.  6 
to  10.  The  lion  symbolises  St.  Mark  for  three 
reasons:  i,  He  opens  his  gospel  with  "The  voice 
of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness";  2,  The  lion  as 
king  of  beasts  symbolises  Christ,  the  royal  son  of 
God;  and  3,  an  Oriental  tradition  says  that  young 
lions  are  born  dead,  and  after  three  days  the 
breath  and  roar  of  the  king  of  beasts  brings  them 
to  life.  This  represents  the  resurrection,  of  which 
St.  Mark  gives  a  special  history. 

The  traditions  and  legends  of  St.  Mark  are 
very  closely  connected  with  the  history  of  Venice 
from  A.  D.  815,  when  some  Venetian  merchants 
despoiled  his  tomb  at  Alexandria  in  Egypt  and 
took  the  sacred  relics  to  Venice,  where  the  cathedral 
of  San  Marco  was  built  to  contain  them. 

We  must  not  overlook  the  statues  above  the 
baseless  columns  of  the  Doge's  Palace.  The  deli- 
cately carved  foliage  and  exquisite  arrangement  of 
the  figures  of  the  capitals  give  a  setting  for  sculp- 

[121] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

tures  unequalled  in  all  Europe.  Notice  specially 
the  "Adam  and  Eve  Corner"  (Fig.  84),  toward 
the  Lagune.  How  perfectly  the  nude  figures  of 
Adam  and  Eve  fit  into  the  scheme  of  decoration. 
The  amused  expression  on  their  faces  gives  no 
hint  of  the  tragedy  hanging  over  them,  though 
the  artist  has  skilfully  woven  the  legend  of  Lilith, 
Adam's  first  wife,  into  the  climbing,  twisting  vine 
between  them.  The  serpent,  with  Lilith's  head,  is 
the  tempter  in  the  old  works  of  art.  Eve  will  soon 
feel  the  influence  of  the  outraged  Lilith — and  then 
the  apple  will  do  its  deadly  work.  There  is  really 
not  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  human  figure  in  these 
statues,  yet  the  naivete  of  the  sculpture  is  pleasing. 
But  let  us  look  at  another  "Adam  and  Eve" 
group  inside  the  court  of  the  Palace.  We  will 
mount  the  Giant's  Staircase  and  turn,  facing  the 
archway  through  which  we  entered.  The  nude 
figures  are  before  us  in  the  niches  above.  These 
statues  were  made  by  Antonio  Rizzo  about  1462. 
They  are  truly  admirable  examples  of  the  nude, 
and  quite  superior  to  most  of  the  architectural  fig- 
ures of  the  early  Renaissance.  It  is  interesting  to 
contrast  the  modest  submission  of  Eve,  in  her  will- 
ingness to  acknowledge  her  sin,  with  the  self- 
justifying  attitude  of  Adam.  See  how  confidently 
he  places  his  hand  on  his  breast,  and  with  eyes 
raised  to  heaven,  seems  to  say,  "The  woman  whom 
thou  gavest  to  be  with  me,  she  gave  me  of  the  tree, 
[  122] 


VENICE 

and  I  did  eat."  Rizzo  has  put  into  these  figures 
a  rhythm  of  action  between  joints  and  muscles  that 
shows  his  understanding  of  the  anatomy  of  the 
human  body,  and  yet  he  has  preserved  the  delicate 
flow  of  line  that  gives  to  marble  the  quality  of 
warm,  healthful  skin. 

There  are  four  splendid  antique  "Greek  Lions'* 
at  the  gate  of  the  Arsenal  in  Venice  that  we  must 
not  fail  to  see.  These  lions  were  brought  from 
Athens  in  1687  and  1716.  In  their  native  home 
they  guarded  the  Piraeus  harbour — at  one  time  the 
harbour  itself  was  called  Porto  Leone — the  Sacred 
Way  leading  from  Athens  to  Eleusis  (the  Shrine 
of  Mysteries),  and  the  Attic  battlefield  of  Mara- 
thon. The  lions  are  made  of  Pentelic  marble.  The 
large  sitting  one  (Fig.  85)  with  the  Runic  in- 
scriptions guarded  the  harbour,  and  a  splendid 
watchman  he  certainly  was! 


CHAPTER   XIII 
MUNICH 

ATTSHE  greatest  treasures  of  the  Glyptothek  Gal- 
-•-  lery  in  Munich  are  the  Aiginetan  Marbles. 
They  stand  to  that  Museum  what  the  Parthenon 
Marbles  do  to  the  British  Museum  in  London. 
True,  they  are  not  so  beautiful  as  the  English  treas- 
ures, but  as  a  connecting  link  in  the  study  of  sculp- 
ture in  the  islands  surrounding  Greece  they  are  in- 
valuable. 

When  the  fragments  of  the  Aigina  marbles  were 
discovered  in  1811,  by  some  English  and  German 
scholars,  the  French,  English  and  German  govern- 
ments all  wanted  them.  The  fragments  were  taken 
to  the  island  of  Zante,  one  of  the  great  commercial 
centres  of  Greece  then  as  now.  After  the  sale 
had  been  announced,  a  statement  was  sent  out  that 
the  marbles  had  been  sent  to  Malta,  where  the  sale 
would  take  place.  The  German  agents  were  sus- 
picious of  this  statement  and  decided  that  they  had 
better  stay  in  Zante  and  await  results.  Their  sus- 
picions were  correct — the  sale  was  in  Zante,  and 
Germany,  having  the  only  agents  on  the  ground, 
bought  the  precious  fragments  for  thirty  thousand 
dollars.  The  marred  and  broken  collection  was 


MUNICH 

then  sent  to  Rome  and  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
sculptor  Thorwaldsen,  the  idol  of  the  German 
people,  to  be  restored.  Technically  his  work  was 
good,  but  misconceived  in  spirit.  The  plaster 
models  of  the  Aigina  group,  made  by  Furtwangler, 
which  stand  near  the  marbles,  give  the  more  cor- 
rect idea  of  what  the  originals  must  have  been  in 
their  pristine  perfection. 

These  figures,  in  Parian  marble,  were  once  on 
the  pediment  of  the  temple  of  Athena,  or  possibly 
a  native  goddess,  in  the  island  of  Aigina.  They 
probably  represent  Trojan  and  Greek  warriors 
fighting  over  the  dead  body  of  the  hero  who  lies 
at  the  feet  of  the  goddess.  In  the  central  group 
on  the  west  pediment  (Fig.  86),  stands  Athena, 
tall,  stiff  and  unconscious,  as  though  she  were 
simply  a  connecting  link  between  the  sloping  groups 
on  either  side.  To  fill  the  gable  of  the  building 
with  statues  and  have  them  artistically  correct,  a 
tall  central  figure  or  group  was  necessary.  In  the 
restored  grouping  there  are  two  stooping  warriors 
in  the  background  contending  for  the  fallen  war- 
rior, while  the  two  warriors  with  shield  protect 
them.  This  arrangement  gives  more  continuity  to 
the  composition.  It  is  very  evident  that  the  sculp- 
tor (it  may  have  been  Onatas,  480  B.  C.)  who 
made  the  group  is  still  under  archaic  influence,  and 
yet  in  the  nude  warriors  he  shows  considerable 
knowledge  of  anatomy.  At  least  he  has  made  hu- 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

man  bodies,  while  in  Athena  he  has  hung  her 
clothes  from  a  coat-hanger,  with  her  head  and  arms 
simply  attached  from  the  outside.  But  Athena  is 
goddess-like  as  she  towers  above  her  warriors,  and 
her  garments  have  all  the  insignia  of  her  office, 
the  dread  aegis  with  its  Gorgan  head  in  the  centre, 
the  Attic  helmet  with  its  high  crest,  the  protecting 
shield  and  the  cruel  lance — all  these  show  her  com- 
pletely armed  for  war. 

The  fallen  hero  and  the  fighting  warrior  claim 
our  admiration,  however,  for  they  have  developed 
bodies  fit  for  fighting.  The  framework  of  these 
bodies  is  anatomically  correct  and  the  muscles  are 
distributed  with  considerable  skill.  True,  there  is 
not  much  life  in  the  finished  figures,  but  they  point 
toward  greater  achievements  in  this  line. 

The  figures  in  the  east  pediment  certainly  show 
great  advancement  over  those  of  the  west.  Nat- 
urally the  end  of  the  temple  facing  the  sea  would 
be  the  first  to  be  decorated,  therefore  the  west 
pediment  has  the  older  marbles  and  it  may  have 
been  several  years  before  the  east  end  was  com- 
pleted. Onates  may  have  designed  the  work  for 
both  pediments,  and  then  his  son  Calliteles  finished 
it.  Unquestionably  the  work  on  the  east  end  is  far 
superior  to  that  on  the  other  end.  Look  at  the 
"Fallen  Warrior"  (Fig.  87),  and  note  how  much 
more  of  the  spirit  of  life  he  has  than  those  fighting 
warriors  of  the  opposite  end.  The  muscles  have 


MUNICH 

now  been  endowed  with  the  power  of  motion.  The 
lifted  leg  is  capable  of  straightening  itself  out 
again,  and  the  whole  body  seems  able  to  respond  to 
the  will  of  the  man.  Notice  that  the  toes  are  un- 
equal in  length,  as  in  life,  and  that  the  tendons  of 
the  shin  and  foot  have  responded  to  the  stretch  of 
the  leg  and  toes  that  pain  often  causes.  The  gen- 
eral arrangement  of  the  figures  of  the  two  pedi- 
ments is  the  same,  but  the  artist  of  the  east  end 
has  dared  assert  himself  and  improves  on  the 
archaistic  principles  of  the  past. 

There  are  two  statues  in  the  Glyptothek  that 
belong  to  the  Niobe  group  in  Florence  (see  page 
88).  There  are  four  replicas,  in  Florence,  Turin, 
Dresden,  and  in  Munich  the  "Dead  Niobid"  (Fig. 
88).  Death  has  claimed  this  son;  the  struggle 
is  over.  Soon  all  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
ill-fated  Niobe  will  be  lying  still  in  death.  The 
pathetic  story  of  the  destruction  of  these  beautiful 
sons  and  daughters  never  loses  its  interest  because 
of  repetition. 

For  a  long  time  the  beautiful  torso  of  "Ilioneus" 
(Fig.  89)  was  thought  to  be  Narcissus,  but  Thor- 
waldsen  saw  in  it  the  last  remaining  son  of  Niobe. 
Although  but  a  fragment,  we  can  see  him  raising 
his  arms  to  heaven  and  hear  him  crying  in  tones  of 
anguish,  "Spare  me,  ye  gods !"  But  his  cry  came 
too  late.  Apollo  would  have  saved  him,  but  the 
fatal  arrow  was  already  on  its  way.  Some  author- 
[  127] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

ities  disagree  about  this  being  Niobid,  because  all 
the  other  statues  of  the  group  are  either  draped 
or  have  drapery  at  hand,  while  this  figure  is  en- 
tirely nude. 

Medusa's  head  seems  to  have  had  a  special  charm 
for  Greek  artists.  They  portrayed  her  in  all  stages 
of  transformation,  from  the  hideous  monster  with 
coarse  features,  tongue  protruding  and  snaky  locks 
under  the  curse  of  Athena,  back  again  to  the  beau- 
tiful maiden,  with  a  mere  suggestion  of  the  penalty 
she  paid  to  the  jealous  goddess  (see  Fig.  39). 
The  "Medusa  Rondanini"  (Fig.  90),  in  the  Glyp- 
tothek,  cannot  be  mistaken  as  to  its  identity.  The 
mouth  and  nose  still  show  the  materialism  of  the 
older  artists  to  coarsen  the  features,  and  the 
rounded  band  under  the  chin  cannot  be  misunder- 
stood in  its  cruel  suggestiveness,  yet  the  expression 
of  the  face  is  softened  and  the  hair  clings  in  nat- 
ural curls  to  the  shapely  head. 

It  is  curious  to  note,  as  the  centuries  pass,  how 
artists  gradually  changed  their  minds  concerning 
Medusa  and  her  punishment.  At  first  in  their  de- 
votion to  Athena  they  sought  to  make  her  enemy 
so  hideous  in  features  that  the  beholder  would 
shrink  in  terror,  then  later  she  lost  her  repulsiveness 
and  was  simply  coarse  and  unattractive,  and  then 
again  she  became  the  beautiful  woman  with  hair 
barely  suggestive.  But  when  the  decadence  of 
Caravaggio's  time  came,  Medusa  was  again  repul- 

[128] 


86.    Athena  and  Warriors.   East  Pediment,  Temple  of  Aigina.   Glyptothek, 

Munich. 


87.     Fallen  Warrior. 


West  Pediment,  Temple  of  Aigina. 
Munich. 


Glyptothek, 


88.     Dying  Niobid.     Glyptothek,  Munich. 


MUNICH 

sively  loathsome  with  crawling,  hissing  reptiles 
for  each  individual  hair. 

The  beautiful  statue  of  "Eirene  and  Plutos" 
(Fig.  91)  is  a  copy  of  an  original  by  Kephisodo- 
tos,  the  father  of  the  famous  Praxiteles.  After  the 
battle  of  Leucas,  375  B.  C.,  Eirene,  the  goddess  of 
peace,  was  raised  from  a  minor  goddess  to  a  very 
high  place  in  the  Athenian  hierarchy,  and  elaborate 
ceremonials  were  held  in  her  honour.  It  must  have 
been  shortly  after  this  time  that  Kephisodotos  made 
the  statue  of  Eirene  and  Plutos,  so  much  praised 
by  Pausanias.  This  keen-witted  traveller  was  quick 
to  see  the  fitness  of  representing  the  goddess  of 
peace  with  Wealth  (Plutos)  seated  on  her  arm  and 
at  once  recognised  the  intimate  relationship  that 
must  exist  between  peace  and  prosperity. 

Doubtless  the  original  statue  was  in  bronze,  for 
many  details  in  this  beautiful  Attic  marble  copy 
suggest  it.  Look  at  the  folds  of  the  drapery  falling 
from  the  shoulder  and  the  way  the  arm  comes  from 
under  them.  Also  note  the  crisp  fluffiness  of  the 
hair  and  the  bending  of  one  fold  upon  another  in 
the  garments ;  their  clean-cut  decisiveness  are  indica- 
tive of  bronze  rather  than  marble.  What  a  grand, 
womanly  woman  the  sculptor  has  made!  And 
what  tender  protection  he  has  put  into  the  head 
that  bends  to  the  charming  child!  And  what  a 
dear  little  Plutos  he  is,  too !  There  is  much  in  the 
breadth  of  treatment  in  this  group  that  recalls  the 

[  129] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

Pheidian  age  (see  page  180)  and  a  glimmer  of  the 
coming  soul-life  that  Praxiteles  perfected.  Surely 
Kephisodotos  was  the  link  that  bound  the  sublime 
art  of  Pheidias  to  the  lovable  human  art  of  his 
wonderful  son. 

Now  turn  to  "Silenos  and  the  Infant  Dionysos" 
(Bacchus)  (Fig.  92),  a  copy  of  a  masterpiece  of 
Praxiteles.  There  is  no  lack  of  dignity  in  Silenos, 
though  every  line  of  his  body  expresses  devotion  to 
the  little  Bacchus,  his  pupil  and  foster-child.  The 
mutual  love  of  these  two  touches  our  hearts  in  its 
very  humanness. 

We  can  well  believe  that,  as  he  grew  older,  the 
solicitude  of  the  little  god  for  his  old  schoolmaster 
kept  him  constantly  on  the  watch  for  fear  the  old 
man's  weakness  for  drink  might  bring  him  into 
trouble.  Once  after  one  of  his  drinking  spells  the 
old  man  wandered  off  and  was  gone  eleven  days. 
He  was  found  by  some  peasants  and  taken  to  King 
Midas  who,  after  enjoying  his  company  for  ten 
days,  returned  him  to  Bacchus.  The  god  was  so 
delighted  to  see  his  foster-father  again  that  he 
offered  to  grant  Midas  any  wish  he  might  express. 
Then  it  was  that  Midas  asked  that  whatever  he 
touched  might  become  gold.  The  wish  was  granted 
and  his  trouble  began.  Not  alone  stones  and  sticks 
and  worthless  things  became  gold  in  his  hands,  but 
his  food  and  drink,  and  starvation  stared  him  in 
the  face.  He  now  loathed  the  gift  longed  for,  and 

[130] 


II 


1 

T3^? 

90 


MUNICH 

prayed  to  Bacchus  in  his  agony.  The  god  was 
merciful  and  answered,  "Go  to  the  river  Pactolus, 
trace  the  stream  to  its  fountain  head,  there  plunge 
your  head  and  body  in,  and  wash  away  your  fault 
and  its  punishment."  He  went  to  the  river  and 
there  his  gold-creating  power  passed  into  the 
waters,  and  the  river  sands  to  this  day  are  gold. 

There  are  many  replicas  of  "Silenos  and  Diony- 
sos,"  but  the  one  in  the  Louvre  (see  Fig.  116) 
is  the  most  like  the  one  remaining  original  marble 
of  Praxiteles;  but  more  of  that  later. 

The  statue  of  an  " Athlete  Dropping  Oil  into  his 
Hand"  (Fig.  93)  is  another  copy  of  a  Myron 
original;  also  the  "Discus  Thrower,"  in  the  Vatican 
(see  Fig.  22),  is  another  (a  small  bronze  copy  of 
the  "Discus  Thrower"  is  in  the  Glyptothek)  ;  and 
"Marsyas,"  in  the  Lateran  (see  Fig.  51),  is  still 
another  copy.  It  was  a  common  practice  with 
athletes  to  rub  themselves  with  oil.  The  oil  was 
dropped  into  the  palm  of  the  hand  and  applied  to 
various  parts  of  the  body  just  before  beginning  the 
games.  The  restored  right  arm  of  the  statue  is 
unquestionably  wrong,  for  it  would  be  simply  im- 
possible for  oil  to  fall  into  the  left  hand  from  that 
angle.  Otherwise  see  how  perfectly  simple  and 
convincing  is  the  attitude  of  the  young  athlete.  His 
attention  is  concentrated  on  the  amount  of  oil  his 
hand  will  hold — the  left  hand  is  also  wrongly  re- 
stored— he  stands  firmly  on  the  left  foot  with  the 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

right  advanced  just  enough  to  make  a  firm  base  to 
steady  the  hand  holding  the  oil-jar. 

The  artists  of  the  Hellenistic  age  in  Greece  were 
quite  inclined  to  choose  their  subjects  from  the 
every-day  occurrences  of  daily  life,  and  many  times 
the  subject  itself  savoured  of  the  vulgar.  This 
genre  work,  much  like  that  of  the  Dutch  school  fol- 
lowing Rembrandt,  has  brought  us  closer  to  the  real 
life  of  the  Greek  people  with  its  humble  duties,  its 
fantastic  pleasures  and  its  children's  pain  and 
pleasure.  Such  statues  as  the  "Fisherman,"  in  the 
Vatican,  the  "Playful  Satyr"  (see  page  142)  in 
Berlin,  and  the  "Boy  with  a  Thorn  in  his  Foot" 
(see  Fig.  152),  in  the  British  Museum,  are  good 
examples  of  the  skill  of  the  genre  artists. 

But  no  statues  of  the  school  are  more  charac- 
teristic of  the  extremes  of  fantastic  ugliness  and 
genuine  childlike  fun  than  the  "Barberini  Faun" 
(Fig.  94)  and  the  "Boy  with  a  Goose"  (Fig.  95). 

The  Faun  was  discovered  near  the  Mausoleum 
of  Hadrian  (Castle  of  St.  Angelo),  Rome,  while 
Urban  VIII,  a  Barberini,  was  pope  (1623-1644). 
It  is  supposed  that  this  sprawling,  ugly,  drunken 
creature  decorated  the  tomb  of  Hadrian — a  strange 
emblem  for  a  sober,  upright  emperor,  unique  for 
his  goodness  in  an  age  of  corruption.  At  the  siege 
of  Rome  under  Totila  the  Ostrogoth  (544  A.  D.), 
the  statue  was  thrown  into  the  Tiber,  and  when 
brought  to  light  the  left  forearm,  most  of  the  right 

[  132] 


95.     Boy  with  Goose.     After  Boethos.     Glyptothek,  Munich. 


MUNICH 

leg  and  the  lower  part  of  the  left  leg  were  missing. 
There  is  no  question  but  that  the  creature  is  hid- 
eous, but  look  at  the  superb  work.  Like  Jan  Steen's 
"tavern  scenes"  of  dissipation  and  debauchery,  the 
disgusting  subjects  are  forgotten  in  the  marvellous 
magic  touch  of  the  artist.  Truly  he  has  trans- 
formed a  thing  ugly  in  itself  to  a  marvel  of  beauty 
and  joy. 

Now  feast  your  heart  again  on  the  "Boy  and 
the  Goose"  (Fig.  95)  !  He  is  a  darling,  and  well 
worth  a  second  picture  (see  Fig.  26).  We  realise 
that  the  artists  are  getting  away  from  the  great 
art  of  Pheidias  and  Praxiteles  and  that  decadence 
in  art  has  begun;  but  this  last  effort,  in  the  ending 
centuries  before  the  new  spirit  came,  has  brought  us 
closer  to  human  life.  We  need  the  classic  ideals 
of  old  Greece  and  we  also  need  Boethus  and  his 
bewitching  children  of  the  home. 


[133] 


CHAPTER   XIV 
BERLIN 

A  STRANGE  coincidence  occurred  at  Perga- 
-*•*•  mon  when  the  fragments  of  the  great  Tem- 
ple of  Zeus,  now  in  the  Berlin  Museum,  were 
discovered  by  accident  in  the  seventies.  As  the 
excavators  were  climbing  the  mountain  ready  for 
their  task,  above  their  heads  circled  eagles,  the 
god's  own  birds,  as  though  directing  them  where 
to  find  statues  of  the  great  Zeus  and  his  attendants, 
and  when  the  fragments  came  to  light  not  only 
Zeus  and  his  galaxy  were  there,  but  eagles,  brothers 
of  the  wild  birds  circling  in  the  blue  ether  above 
the  workmen.  They  were  pictured  assisting  the 
great  god,  bringing  the  thunderbolts  and  helping 
dispatch  the  enemies  with  beak  and  talons. 

The  great  altar  at  Pergamon  had  been  lost  to 
the  world  for  centuries;  in  fact,  its  very  existence 
was  forgotten.  The  reference  in  Revelation  ii.  12, 
13,  "And  to  the  angel  of  the  church  of  Pergamos 
write,  I  know  where  thou  dwellest,  even  where 
Satan's  throne  is :"  lost  its  real  meaning  when  these 
marbles  were  hidden  and  unknown.  Just  when 
they  disappeared,  no  one  knows.  Pausanias,  in  the 

[134] 


BERLIN 

second  century  A.  D.,  refers  incidentally  to  a  great 
altar  at  Pergamon  and  another  little  known  author 
of  the  same  century  mentions  a  marble  altar  at 
Pergamon  fifty  feet  high  with  large  figures  fight- 
ing, as  among  the  great  wonders  of  the  world. 
There  is  little  doubt  but  that  its  destruction  was 
due  to  the  mistaken  zeal  of  the  early  Christians. 
To  them  an  altar  to  Zeus  was  indeed  the  throne 
of  Satan.  Many  of  the  reliefs  built  into  walls  of 
houses  and  fortifications,  were  found  in  a  fine  state 
of  preservation,  except  that  the  gods  in  most  cases 
were  minus  their  heads.  This  argues  that  to  the 
Christians  the  heathen  gods  were  all  looked  upon 
as  enemies  of  the  one  true  God,  and  that  they 
had  no  appreciation  of  this  great  work  of  art,  as 
it  illustrated  the  contest  of  right  and  wrong  be- 
tween the  heavenly  deities  and  the  earth-born 
giants.  But  was  this  mistaken  zeal  any  stranger 
than  the  iconoclastic  movement  in  Europe  many 
centuries  later? 

The  Pergamon  altar  was  built  during  the  reign 
of  Eumenes  II  (197-159  B.  C),  in  the  Autumn 
days  of  Greek  sculpture,  yet  with  no  abatement  of 
artistic  skill.  Fortunately  the  fragments  preserved 
in  the  Berlin  Museum  have  not  been  marred  by  the 
restorer.  Broken  and  fragmentary  the  pieces  are, 
yet  a  number  of  individual  figures  stand  out  clearly, 
and  others  in  part,  so  that  one  can  get  some  con- 
ception of  what  the  altar  must  have  been  in  its 

[135] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

pristine  perfection.  One  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  single  figures  is  that  of  "Selene  on  her  Horse" 
(Fig.  96).  Selene,  the  goddess  of  the  moon,  sits 
calmly  overlooking  the  combat  of  the  gods  with 
the  giants.  Were  it  not  that  the  strained  muscles 
and  raised  tail  of  her  horse  and  the  fluttering  end 
of  her  outer  mantle  suggest  rapid  motion  one  might 
think  that  the  pale  goddess  was  simply  waiting  in 
the  distance  the  outcome  of  the  battle.  But  the 
sharp  turn  of  her  eager  head  and  her  raised  right 
arm  show  how  intense  is  her  interest,  though  her 
body  is  calm  and  controlled.  What  an  exquisitely 
beautiful  neck  and  shoulder!  The  firm  velvety 
skin  pulsates  with  life.  Look  at  the  yielding  qual- 
ity of  the  healthy  flesh  under  the  narrow  girdle. 
Did  the  folds  of  a  loose  robe  ever  cling  more  lov- 
ingly to  a  beautiful  human  form?  or  did  living 
flesh  ever  respond  to  the  gentle  swell  of  the  lungs 
more  perfectly?  This  goddess  of  the  moon  is 
altogether  one  of  the  most  alive  beings  in  all  art 
— a  masterpiece  of  womanly  charms. 

What  a  pity  that  most  of  the  gods  of  the  Per- 
gamon  marbles  should  have  so  little  left  to  dis- 
tinguish them.  But  of  "Dionysos"  (Fig.  97)  we 
are  quite  sure,  for  by  his  side  is  his  panther,  and 
part  of  the  chaplet  of  vine  leaves  still  cling  to  his 
flowing  locks. 

The  story  of  Dionysos  as  told  by  Acetes  ex- 
plains how  the  panther  became  one  of  his  attend- 


*! 

la 


aS 


Bust  of  Aphrodite.     Pergamon  Museum,  Berlin. 


BERLIN 

ants.  When  Dionysos  was  a  youth  he  was  stolen 
by  some  sailors,  as  he  slept  They  thought  to  sell 
the  beautiful  boy  as  a  slave  into  Egypt,  and  in- 
stead of  sailing  toward  Naxos,  as  the  god  request- 
ed, they  steered  toward  the  country  of  the  Nile. 
But  Dionysos  aroused  himself — he  had  been  in  a 
kind  of  stupor — looked  about  and  cried,  weeping, 

"Sailors,  yonder  island  is  not  my  home.  What 
have  I  done  that  you  should  treat  me  so?"  Sud- 
denly the  vessel  stopped  as  if  rooted  to  the  place; 
vines  sprang  up  covered  with  clusters  of  grapes; 
the  sailors  were  changed  into  dolphins,  except 
Acetes,  the  narrator  of  the  wonderful  scene ;  tigers 
crouched  at  the  feet  of  Dionysos  and  panthers  and 
lynxes  played  around  him.  The  god  commanded 
Acetes  to  steer  the  vessel  to  Naxos,  and  there  the 
altars  were  kindled  and  the  sacred  rites  of  Dio- 
nysos (Bacchus)  were  celebrated. 

It  is  a  little  strange  that  the  pleasure-loving  god 
should  be  in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  and  in  a  fight 
for  right  too !  He  is  accompanied  by  his  satyrs — 
two  can  be  traced  in  the  fragments.  Every  detail 
of  the  god's  apparel  is  portrayed  with  the  artistic 
touch  of  a  master  hand.  One  can  feel  the  fine 
texture  of  his  clinging  garments,  especially  where 
they  escape  from  beneath  the  nebris,  or  faun-skin 
at  the  waist  and  shoulders,  and  fly  out  against  the 
panther  and  the  leather  aprons  of  his  satyrs.  No 
Venetian  artists  have  shown  greater  skill  in  imi- 

[137] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

tating  stuffs  than  have  these  Pergamon  sculptors 
with  brushes  of  steel. 

The  "Aphrodite  Head,"  in  the  Pergamon  Mu- 
seum (Fig.  98),  is  a  treasure  of  rare  beauty.  It 
is  undoubtedly  a  Greek  work,  and  may  be  a  copy 
of  an  Aphrodite  by  Alcamenes,  the  pupil  and  con- 
temporary of  Pheidias.  It  is  made  of  Parian  mar- 
ble and  has  not  been  touched  by  the  restorer.  It 
has  that  quality  of  workmanship  which  points  to 
Attic  work  at  its  best.  Though  the  head  was 
bought  in  Rome  in  1873,  ^  no  doubt  originally 
came  from  Greece.  Many  details  of  this  precious 
bit  of  marble  remind  one  of  the  Aphrodite,  or 
"Venno  Genetrix,"  in  the  Louvre  (Fig.  108). 
The  close  waving  hair  lying  low  on  the  broad 
forehead,  the  oval  of  the  face  and  the  exquisite 
mouth  mark  a  lovable  woman,  while  the  calm, 
steady,  deeply  sympathetic  eyes  command  respect. 
There  certainly  is  a  charm  in  this  broken  treasure 
that  only  a  master  hand  can  give,  and  if  the  master 
of  the  original  was  Alcamenes  he  was  second  only 
to  Pheidias,  according  to  Pausanias.  Alcamenes 
was  a  native  of  Attica  (born  at  Lemnos  or  Athens) 
and  lived  about  448-404  B.  C.  He  was  known 
to  have  made  two  Aphrodites,  and  the  more  cele- 
brated of  the  two  was  made  for  a  garden  outside 
of  Athens,  hence  called  "Aphrodite  of  the  Gar- 
den." 

The  "Pergamon  Copy  of  Athena  Parthenos" 

[138] 


BERLIN 

(Fig.  99)  may  give  us  a  faint  idea  of  the  im- 
posing grandeur  of  Pheidias'  famous  statue  of  the 
goddess  of  Athens.  Of  all  the  important  statues 
of  Pheidias'  time — we  have  none  of  them  to-day 
— probably  no  single  one  has  been  mentioned  more 
often  by  art  critics  and  antiquarians  of  antiquity 
than  Athena  Parthenos.  When  the  Parthenon,  the 
temple  of  Athena,  was  finished,  the  highest  com- 
mission that  could  possibly  be  given  any  artist  was 
to  execute  a  statue  of  the  virgin  goddess  for  the 
shrine  of  her  new  temple  in  Athens,  and  Pheidias 
was  given  that  commission.  That  he  far  surpassed 
any  work  of  his  predecessors  is  asserted  by  all 
writers.  The  statue,  more  than  six  times  the  height 
of  a  man,  was  made  of  wood  overlaid  with  pure 
gold  and  ivory  and  decorated  with  precious  gems. 
In  437  B.  C.  the  goddess  stood  complete  in  her 
own  shrine  in  the  Parthenon,  but  as  early  as  397 
B.  C.  it  needed  repairs,  though  the  precaution  had 
been  taken  of  wetting  the  wood  to  keep  it  from 
shrinking  in  the  dry  air  of  the  Acropolis.  A  hun- 
dred years  later  (297  B.  C.),  the  tyrant  Lachates 
despoiled  the  goddess  of  her  precious  drapery,  but 
fortunately  having  to  flee  from  his  enemies  dis- 
guised as  a  peasant,  he  probably  carried  away  but 
a  small  portion  of  the  rich  material.  Pausanias 
writes  in  the  second  century  A.  D.  of  seeing  the 
statue  fully  draped  in  gold,  and  in  375  A.  D.  it  is 
reported  still  in  Athens. 

[139] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

It  seems  impossible  for  us  to  gain  much  idea  of 
the  real  grandeur  of  the  statue  of  Athena  Par- 
thenos,  for  even  Pliny  declared  he  was  unable  to 
do  justice  to  any  of  the  great  works  of  Pheidias, 
and  simply  contented  himself  with  giving  descrip- 
tions of  minor  decorations  of  the  great  goddess. 
We  stand  before  the  Pergamon  copy  and  wonder 
how  anything  so  colossal  in  size  could  be  made  to 
embody  so  much  of  the  charm  of  womanhood,  and 
if  this  is  so  of  a  simple  copy  in  marble,  what  must 
have  been  the  original,  with  its  glory  of  gold  and 
ivory  and  precious  gems,  transformed  into  a  god- 
dess by  the  great  master  Pheidias.  In  1880,  in 
repairing  a  street  in  Athens,  a  statuette  was  un- 
covered which  is  unquestionably  the  most  perfect 
copy  in  miniature  of  the  Athena  Parthenos.  It  is 
scarcely  three  feet  high,  but  has  the  exact  propor- 
tions of  Pheidias'  statue,  as  given  by  ancient  wri- 
ters. The  statuette  is  in  Athens. 

In  the  Old  Museum,  in  Berlin,  we  are  attracted 
at  once  by  the  beautiful  statue  of  "An  Amazon," 
after  Polycletos  (Fig.  100).  Pliny  tells  the  story 
that  when  Amazon  statues  were  required  for  the 
temple  of  Artemis  at  Ephesus,  in  the  fifth  century, 
all  the  noted  sculptors  of  the  time  sent  in  work, 
and  Polycletos  won  the  prize  over  Pheidias.  This 
story  may  be  simply  an  anecdote,  yet  this  marble 
copy  of  an  Amazon  is  the  most  important  statue 
of  all  the  representations  of  the  female  warriors. 

[  140] 


a 


n 

°PQ 


BERLIN 

Whether  it  is  a  direct  copy  of  Polycletos  or  not, 
it  is  impossible  to  know,  but  certainly  the  grace- 
ful, well-proportioned,  vigorous  lines  of  this  beau- 
tiful woman  accord  well  with  the  Polycleton  type. 
The  expression  of  pain  on  her  face  and  the  bleed- 
ing wound  on  her  right  side  tell  plainly  that  she 
has  been  in  the  fray,  yet  she  asks  no  pity  as  she 
rests  her  weight  on  the  pierced  side  and  opens  the 
wound  afresh  by  raising  her  right  arm  over  her 
head.  She  shows  both  a  determination  to  ignore 
the  hurt,  and,  though  resting  for  a  moment,  a  will 
to  return  to  the  thick  of  the  fight.  Her  attitude 
bespeaks  one  who  has  withdrawn  from  the  fury 
of  the  contest,  with  flesh  torn  and  garment  clasp 
broken,  only  to  enter  again  later.  Beautiful  she 
certainly  is  in  her  heroic  courage  and  feminine 
grace.  Several  artists,  in  their  copies  of  the  Ama- 
zon warriors,  have  sought  to  lessen  the  heroic  in 
her  disregard  of  pain  by  shifting  the  weight  of 
her  body  to  the  left  leg,  lowering  the  straining 
arm  and  draping  the  body  to  conceal  the  wound, 
as  seen  in  the  Vatican  and  Capitol  copies  in  Rome. 
But  by  doing  so  they  have  deprived  the  brave  war- 
rior women  of  the  strength  of  their  convictions 
and  have  aroused  in  the  beholder  a  feeling  of  con- 
tempt for  their  weakness  rather  than  of  admiration 
for  their  courage. 

In  the  Antiquarium  of  the  Old  Museum  is  "The 
Praving  Boy,"  after  Lysippus  (possibly  by  his  son 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

Boedas)  (Fig.  101).  It  is  believed  that  in  this 
boy  is  reproduced  a  universal  custom  among  the 
ancient  Greeks,  that  of  prefacing  every  act  with 
prayer.  Homer  says  the  heroes  "stretch  their 
hands  to  the  gods"  and  "look  up  to  heaven."  The 
suppliant  always  stood  with  head  uncovered  and 
open  hands.  The  position  of  the  arms  indicated 
what  gods  were  appealed  to;  if  of  heaven,  they 
stretched  upward;  if  of  the  sea,  they  were  stretched 
forward;  if  of  the  underworld,  they  beat  the 
ground  to  attract  the  god's  attention.  This  life- 
sized  statue,  probably  an  athlete,  is  an  almost  un- 
touched original  Greek  bronze  of  the  finest  quality. 
The  metal  is  so  thin  that  the  statue  can  be  easily 
carried  by  one  man — quite  different  from  the  Ro- 
man bronze  boy  of  the  same  size  (Fig.  102),  that 
takes  four  men  to  move.  There  is  a  certain  exalta- 
tion of  pose  and  manner  in  this  simple  boy  that 
lifts  our  minds  with  his  to  a  higher  power,  a  uni- 
versal instinct  in  humanity. 

The  "Running  Boy"  (Fig.  102)  was  found  near 
Xanten  in  the  Rhine.  It  is  of  Roman  bronze  and 
lacks  the  quality  of  life  that  fills  the  figure  of  the 
"Praying  Boy."  The  pose  is  stiff  and  awkward, 
yet  there  is  an  eagerness  in  the  lifted  head  that 
is  very  boyish.  It  evidently  belongs  to  the  early 
Imperial  period  of  Rome. 

Do  not  fail  to  see  the  bronze  "Playful  Satyr" 
from  Pergamon.  The  little  fellow  is  only  six 

[142] 


BERLIN 

inches  high,  yet  so  full  of  the  spirit  of  mischief 
that  we  laugh  at  his  antics  in  spite  of  ourselves. 
Small  as  he  is,  he  reminds  us  of  Myron's  "Mar- 
syas"  (Fig.  51),  but  the  later  artist  has  given  a 
thoughtless  playfulness  to  his  wee  figure  like  that 
of  the  child  or  veritable  woodland  sprite.  The 
coarse,  ugly  face  of  the  little  imp  is  lighted  up  with 
a  merriment  so  genuine  that  we  attach  no  malice 
to  the  fisticuffs  he  is  delivering  right  and  left. 


[143] 


CHAPTER    XV 
PARIS— LOUVRE 

TF  we  could  be  transported  from  the  stem  of  an 
•*•  ocean  steamer  at  full  speed  to  the  entrance  hall 
of  the  Louvre,  Paris,  and  there  catch  our  first  view 
of  "Nike  of  Samathrace"  (Fig.  103),  we  would 
continue  to  feel  that  thrill  of  exaltation  which 
springs  from  unimpeded  motion.  Even  stepping 
from  the  street  into  the  presence  of  this  superb 
creature,  we  are  lifted  out  of  the  sordid  common- 
place, and  all  life  offers  to  us  untold  possibilities. 
Nike  of  Samathrace  was  set  up  by  Demetros 
Polioketes  of  Macedon  to  celebrate  his  naval  vic- 
tories over  the  Egyptians  in  306  B.  C.,  but  who 
the  sculptor  was  is  still  unknown.  The  victor,  fol- 
lowing the  tradition  of  the  Greeks  that  when  a 
victory  had  been  won  at  sea,  Nike,  the  goddess  of 
Victory,  came  down  and  lighted  on  the  prow  of  the 
ship  and  guided  it  to  its  native  shores,  placed  this 
wonderful  statue  on  the  seashore  of  the  island  of 
Samothrace.  There  her  right  wing  ever  pointed  to 
the  sea  and  her  left  toward  the  temples  and  long 
colonnaded  walks  where  statesmen  and  pleasure- 
seekers  were  wont  to  gather. 

[144] 


103.     Victory  of  Samothrace.     Louvre,  Paris. 


104.     Venus  de  Milo.     Louvre,  Paris. 


PARIS 

The  statue  was  discovered  by  the  French  con- 
sul Champoisseau,  on  the  ancient  site  in  1867.  Only 
fragmentary  pieces  of  the  goddess  were  found  and 
not  until  1875,  under  an  Austrian  expedition,  did 
the  pedestal  come  to  light  on  the  same  site.  Look- 
ing at  the  goddess  carefully  you  will  find  that  only 
the  left  side  is  really  finished,  as  that  side  faced  the 
spectators,  and  the  back  is  simply  blocked  out,  for 
the  statue  was  in  front  of  a  high  wall  that  crossed 
the  end  of  the  valley.  There  she  stood,  this  colos- 
sal goddess  of  Victory,  towering  above  the  build- 
ings and  dominating  the  sea  and  the  valley  spread 
out  before  her.  What  a  thrill  of  pride  these 
Samothracians  must  have  felt  when  such  a  magnifi- 
cent goddess  of  Victory  alighted  on  their  shores. 
Words  are  too  feeble  to  describe  this  masterpiece; 
only  individual  souls  feel  her  impelling  force,  a 
force  that  beckons  each  individual  to  the  highest 
achievement  and  is  satisfied  only  with  perfection. 
Nike  is  a  most  fitting  piece  of  art  to  introduce  you 
to  the  treasures  of  the  Louvre  gallery  and  equally 
fitting  as  a  finale.  Study  her  well,  and  then  stand 
quietly  and  let  her  influence  envelop  you  until  the 
exaltation  of  victory  is  yours  too. 

And  now  let  us  turn  aside  to  the  left  and  enter 
the  long  hall  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  You  can 
see  her  in  the  distance,  that  beautiful  goddess  of 
Love,  "Aphrodite  of  Melos,"  or  "Venus  de  Milo" 
(Fig.  104).  She  is  well  worth  crossing  the  ocean 

[145] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

to  see!  She  stands  alone  in  the  end  room  and 
glows  with  perfect  health  against  the  low  tone 
red  walls  that  surround  her.  In  this  lovely  being 
is  combined  all  that  makes  a  perfect  woman — some 
particular  perfect  woman  that  we  all  know  per- 
sonally. We  look  into  her  eyes  and  feel  that 
truth  dwells  there.  Her  mouth  might  chide  but 
never  with  injustice.  She  has  power,  yet  her  sense 
of  proportions  in  the  things  of  life  would  govern 
her  actions.  We  love  her,  we  revere  her,  and  we 
claim  her  as  our  friend. 

The  Aphrodite  of  Melos  was  found  in  1820  by 
a  peasant  in  a  grotto  in  the  island  of  Melos.  The 
statue  was  broken  into  two  parts,  and  with  it  were 
a  left  arm  and  hand,  but  critics  still  disagree  as 
to  the  latter  belonging  to  the  statue.  The  goddess 
was  sent  as  a  present  to  Louis  XVIII  of  France. 
No  end  of  controversy  has  been  waged  over  the 
position  of  the  arms  of  Aphrodite,  but  as  no  one 
knows  how  they  were  originally,  she  thus  far  has 
been  left  in  peace.  One  tenable  theory  that  ac- 
counts for  the  lack  of  marks  of  support  for  the 
arms  on  the  statue  (their  weight  in  marble  re- 
quired one)  is  that  she  stood  in  a  niche  with  arms 
supported  against  the  sides,  and  that  she  faced  as 
in  the  illustration.  This  position  reveals  the  fas- 
cinating curl  in  her  neck  and  hides  the  ungraceful 
straight  line  of  the  left  side. 

The  drapery  of  the  Aphrodite  of  Melos  pro- 


PARIS 

yokes  endless  discussions  as  to  its  position  and  am- 
pleness:  it  is  dropped  too  low  to  be  secure,  says 
one;  it  is  too  scant  for  a  garment,  asserts  another. 
But  while  these  questions  still  remain,  possibly  they 
have  brought  us  nearer  her  age.  If  she  were  as 
old  as  the  Parthenon  marbles,  her  drapery  would 
be  full  and  secure :  if  she  were  a  product  of  Prax- 
iteles' prime,  no  thought  need  be  given  to  drapery; 
but  if  she  belongs  to  the  "Autumn"  days  when 
Greek  artists  absorbed,  Raphael-like,  the  best  of  all 
time  and  produced  originals  -par  excellence,  her 
drapery  needs  no  apology,  for  the  sculptor's  use 
of  drapery  was  simply  to  enhance  the  beauty  of 
the  whole.  In  the  words  of  August  Rodin  we  will 
sum  up  the  charms  of  Aphrodite  of  Melos : — "Thy 
verity  is  within  the  range  of  all:  it  is  a  woman, 
whom  each  one  thinks  he  knows,  the  familiar  com- 
panion of  men ;  but  no  one  has  seen  her,  the  wise 
men  not  more  than  the  most  simple." 

The  "Aphrodite  of  Aries"  (Fig.  105)  may  have 
come  from  under  the  influence  of  Praxiteles.  The 
drapery  here  is  frankly  a  garment  with  texture  and 
folds  of  the  days  of  Pheidias,  while  the  face  and 
arrangement  of  the  hair  have  a  slight  resemblance 
to  Phryne.  Possibly  Praxiteles,  early  in  his  career, 
may  have  made  an  Aphrodite  like  this  one.  The 
statue  was  found  at  Aries  in  Provence,  France,  in 
1651. 

But  in  the  "Apollo  Sauroktonos"  (Fig.  106)  we 

[1471 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

have  a  copy,  though  an  inferior  one,  of  a  genuine 
Praxiteles.  If  you  will  compare  this  statue  with 
the  one  in  the  Vatican  (Fig.  16),  you  will  see  at 
once  that  the  copyist  in  making  the  tree  merely  a 
support,  has  detracted  from  the  true  meaning  of 
the  tree  as  a  vital  part  of  the  composition.  In 
the  original  bronze  figure  no  attachment  being 
necessary,  the  full  grace  of  the  pose  could  be  at- 
tained only  by  a  wide  distance  between  the  figure 
and  the  tree.  Copyists  seemed  to  lose  sight  of  this 
essential,  and  in  the  Dresden  Apollo  Sauroktonos 
the  faun  fairly  hugs  the  tree-trunk. 

The  "Athena  of  Velletri"  (Fig.  107)  is  a  Ro- 
man copy  in  marble  of  a  Greek  bronze.  It  is 
placed  as  far  back  as  the  fifth  century  B.  C.  by  some 
authorities,  but  even  the  small  sized  aegis  would 
contradict  this.  In  very  early  Greek  works  the 
aegis  was  more  like  a  garment  on  the  warrior- 
goddess;  even  the  statue  of  her  on  the  Aigina 
temple  marbles  (Fig.  86)  shows  it  falling  below 
her  breasts  and  half  way  to  the  ground  in  the  back. 
Again  in  the  Athena  Parthenos  it  covers  the  breasts 
and  drops  over  the  shoulders,  but  in  the  Athena 
of  Velletri  it  is  scarcely  more  than  a  narrow  collar 
of  coiled  snakes,  with  the  Medusa  medallion  in  the 
front.  Again  the  drapery  has  very  little  of  the 
broad  treatment  of  Pheidias,  and  the  cross  folds 
are  too  studied  to  be  the  work  of  a  great  master 
of  the  time  of  Pheidias.  The  statue  was  named 


PARIS 

Valletri  because  it  was  found  in  that  place,  near 
Rome,  in  1797. 

It  is  possible  that  "Aphrodite  or  Venus  Gene- 
trix"  (Fig.  1 08)  of  the  Louvre  is  a  Roman  copy 
of  the  celebrated  draped  Aphrodite  of  the  Garden 
by  Alcamenes.  Some  critics,  however,  claim  it  is 
a  copy  of  the  famous  Venus  Genetrix,  made  by 
Arcesilaus  for  the  Forum  of  Julius  Caesar,  for 
coins  of  the  Imperial  period  have  a  figure  on  them 
that  corresponds  to  this  statue.  However  this  may 
be,  we  are  bound  to  recognise  that  the  mind  of  a 
master  originated  this  Aphrodite,  whoever  exe- 
cuted this  copy.  Compare  the  untouched  head  of 
this  statue  with  the  exquisite  head  of  Berlin  Aphro- 
dite (Fig.  98),  and  you  will  see  how  close  is  the 
resemblance  between  them.  The  same  close-bound 
wavy  hair,  the  same  depth  of  feeling  in  the  eyes, 
and  the  same  sweetness  and  strength  in  the  mouth 
and  chin.  Look  at  the  long  sweeping  lines  of  the 
drapery  and  note  how  it  reveals,  yet  covers,  the 
graceful  curves  of  her  body.  At  least  this  Aphro- 
dite, repeated  so  many  times  in  the  various  mu- 
seums, must  shadow  forth  some  famous  statue  of 
the  golden  age  of  Greek  art. 

If,  as  a  recent  inscription  permits  us  to  believe, 

Agasias,  the  sculptor  of  the  "Warrior  Borghese" 

(Fig.  109),  can  be  put  in  the  time  of  Pergamon's 

glory  rather  than  the  first  century  B.  C.,  we  can 

better  account  for  the  decided  resemblance  of  this 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

warrior  to  those  on  the  Pergamon  frieze.  With 
mouth  open  and  determined  blows  he  is  probably 
calling  to  an  associate,  and  fighting  an  assailant 
on  horseback  close  at  hand.  The  hero  has  all  the 
eager  enthusiasm  of  the  primitive  in  fight,  yet 
coupled  with  the  restraint  of  the  trained  warrior. 
We  feel,  as  in  the  Pergamon  marbles,  that  if  this 
figure  could  be  in  its  proper  setting  with  comrades 
and  assailants,  its  attitude,  so  strained  in  a  single 
figure,  would  simply  fit  in  as  part  of  a  whole  in 
a  group.  The  statue  was  found  in  an  imperial 
palace  at  Atrium,  near  Rome,  and  once  belonged 
to  the  Borghese  family. 

Poor  "Marsyas"  (Fig.  no)  is  here  undergoing 
the  punishment  he  brought  on  himself  by  his  unwise 
challenge  to  Apollo.  If  you  will  place  the  illustra- 
tion of  the  "Slave  Sharpening  his  Knife"  (Fig.  58) 
by  the  side  of  Marsyas  in  the  Louvre,  you  will  find 
how  well  the  two  figures  explain  each  other.  So 
realistic  is  this  story  told  by  chisel  and  by  pen  that 
we  have  the  deepest  pity  for  poor  Marsyas ;  he  was 
childlike  in  his  boasting.  It  is  quite  certain  that 
these  two  statues,  belong  to  the  Hellenistic  age,  or 
possibly  to  Pergamon  itself;  they  resemble  the  lat- 
ter in  many  points.  The  anatomy  of  poor  tortured 
Marsyas  is  perfect;  his  agony  causes  us  to  shudder, 
yet  no  distortion  of  body  or  exaggerated  show  of 
suffering  offends  us ;  only  his  satyr-like  face  is  pitiful 
in  its  dumb  appeal. 

[150] 


CHAPTER    XVI 
PARIS— LOUVRE  (Continued) 

TT  seems  a  great  pity  that  the  brother  and  sister, 
•••  Apollo  and  Artemis,  could  not  stand  side  by 
side  in  a  museum.  "Artemis  of  Versailles,"  in  the 
Louvre  (Fig.  in),  might  suffer  in  excellence  of 
workmanship  with  the  "Apollo  Belvedere"  (Fig. 
12),  yet  some  contend  that  Apollo  is  of  Italian 
Carrara  marble  while  Artemis  is  of  Greek  marble, 
and  probably  a  replica  of  a  work  of  the  time  of 
Praxiteles.  But  the  statues  are  so  alike  in  size  and 
sense  of  rapid  motion  that  their  execution  point  to 
the  same  period  of  time.  The  sense  of  unrest  that 
one  feels  in  looking  at  these  beautiful  beings,  for 
they  are  very  beautiful  in  bodily  perfection,  leaves 
one  disquieted.  It  is  like  watching  a  race;  there 
is  exhilaration,  but  no  rest  until  it  is  over.  We  are 
filled  with  admiration  over  the  softly  rounded 
limbs,  the  swelling  bosom  and  the  pulsing  life- 
blood  that  quivers  in  every  tissue.  Even  the  sur- 
rounding breezes  feel  the  onward  force  of  the 
huntress,  as  they  play  with  her  short  tunic  and  lift 
it  to  reveal  the  shapely  knee.  One  is  not  surprised 
that  this  goddess,  with  her  keen-eyed,  unsmiling 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

face,  could  punish  without  mercy  when  molested. 
You  may  remember  poor  Actaeon,  and  how  he 
unwittingly  surprised  the  goddess  and  her  nymphs 
in  their  secret  dell.  To  punish  him  she  dashed 
water  in  his  face,  saying : — 

"Now  go  and  tell,  if  you  can,  that  you  have  seen 
Artemis  unapparelled."  The  words  were  scarcely 
spoken  before  from  his  head  sprang  wide  branch- 
ing horns  and  his  limbs  became  legs  with  hoofs  for 
feet,  his  neck  grew  long  and  his  body  was  covered 
with  a  spotted  hairy  hide.  A  sudden  fear  seized 
him  as  he  sprang  away  and  fled.  His  conscious- 
ness remained,  and  when  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  his 
horns  in  the  water  and  realized  that  his  speed  was 
that  of  a  stag,  he  tried  to  cry  out,  but  no  sound 
came.  What  should  he  do?  As  he  waited,  his 
hounds  spied  him,  and  thinking  him  the  stag  they 
had  been  hunting,  started  again  in  pursuit.  He 
fled,  but  his  fifty  hounds  were  too  much  for  one 
poor  trembling  stag.  He  groaned  and  tried  to 
make  himself  known  to  his  faithful  dogs,  but  how 
could  he?  There  was  nothing  human  about  him 
but  his  consciousness.  They  tore  him  to  pieces, 
and  then,  Apollidorus  says,  the  dogs  died  of  grief 
because  they  could  not  find  their  master. 

In  the  same  room  with  "Artemis"  is  the  "Rest- 
ing Satyr"  (Fig.  112),  after  Praxiteles.  This  is 
another  "Marble  Faun"  similar  to  the  one  we  saw 
in  the  Capitol,  Rome  (Fig.  32).  This  fragment 


O   7} 


If 


PARIS 

is  so  beautiful  that  we  are  not  surprised  that  it 
was  long  considered  an  original.    Not  until  1877, 
when  the  group  of  "Hermes  and  the  Infant  Diony- 
sos"  was  uncovered  at  Olympia,  was  it  possible  to 
know  what  an  original  by  Praxiteles  meant.   Pau- 
sanias  mentions  the  Hermes  in  speaking  of  the 
temple  of  Hera.    He  says,  "Later  they  dedicated 
there  some  other  things,  also  a  Hermes  of  stone 
carrying  the  young  Dionysos ;  it  was  made  by  Prax- 
iteles."    The  Hermes,  though  probably  an  early 
work  of  the  master,  has  given  a  standard  by  which 
to  compare  works  attributed  to  Praxiteles,  and  so 
far  no  statue,  fragmentary  or  otherwise,  has  come 
up  to  the  standard.     And  yet  how  satisfying  this 
fragment  is!     So  restful  in  its  attitude  of  repose. 
Whoever  transferred  the  spritely  creature  of  the 
bronze  original  into  the   more   obdurate  marble 
copy  must  have  caught  something  of  the  thought 
and  spirit  that  the  master  put  into  his  work.    This 
copyist,  as  also  the  copyist  of  the  Capitol's  Satyr, 
has  wisely  omitted  the  tail  from  the  leopard  skin 
slung  over  the  satyr's  shoulder.    The  Vatican  copy 
has  preserved  the  tail,  but  its  necessary  attachment 
to  the  marble  body  detracts  from  its  real  signifi- 
cance. 

We  will  now  return  to  the  "Nike"  stairway  and 
on  the  right  see  a  "Head  of  Medusa"  in  profile 
(Fig.  113),  which  is  unusual.  Compare  it  with 
that  of  the  National  Gallery,  Rome  (Fig.  39)  and 

[153] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

note  the  coarse  almost  masculine  character  of  the 
face.  This  is  a  woman  of  years — the  elongated 
profile,  the  firm  set  lower  jaw  and  the  accentuated 
chin  bespeak  a  struggle  for  life  of  the  mature 
woman,  yet  the  swollen  eyelids  mark  the  eternal 
feminine.  The  same  restraint  is  shown  in  portray- 
ing the  snaky  locks  that  characterised  the  master 
of  the  Medusa  of  the  National  Gallery,  yet  the 
workmanship  falls  short.  This,  however,  may  in 
part  be  due  to  the  coarser  grain  of  the  stone. 

On  the  left  of  the  stairway  is  "The  Paedagog  and 
Boy"  (Fig.  114),  another  part  of  the  Niobe  group 
of  Florence.  This  was  found  in  an  ancient  Roman 
settlement  at  Soissons,  France.  In  comparing  this 
group  with  the  "Paedagog"  of  Florence  (Fig.  55), 
we  feel  how  incomplete  the  teacher  was  without 
his  pupil.  Sophocles,  in  his  "Electra,"  has  pic- 
tured in  words  what  the  sculptor  shows  us  in  mar- 
ble— the  beautiful  relationship  in  high-born  Greek 
families  between  the  faithful  pedagogue  or  slave 
and  his  young  charge.  The  tender  solicitude  of  the 
slave  is  beautifully  shown  in  the  caress  of  his  right 
hand  (the  right  arm  and  hand  are  antique)  on  the 
boy's  outstretched  arm.  The  frightened  boy,  a 
mere  child,  is  quieted;  and  why  not?  his  protector 
has  the  strength  of  one  used  to  making  the  rough 
places  smooth  for  his  young  charge. 

In  the  "Borghese  Ares"    (Mars)    (Fig.   115), 
we  have  another  statue  after  Alcamenes,  the  rival 

[154] 


PARIS 

of  the  great  Pheidias.  Though  he  portrays  the 
god  standing  in  pensive  mood,  yet  his  powerful 
proportions  designate  him  at  once  as  born  for  war. 
Ares  was  the  son  of  Zeus  and  Hera  (Jupiter  and 
Juno) .  When  the  Trojan  war  broke  out,  Ares,  at 
the  wish  of  Aphrodite,  favored  the  Trojans.  It 
is  not  surprising  that  this  statue  has  often  been 
called  Achilles,  for  that  Grecian  hero  was  the  hu- 
man counterpart  of  Ares  in  his  prowess  in  war, 
when  once  drawn  into  the  fray.  We  know  that  a 
statue  by  Alcamenes  once  stood  in  the  temple  of 
Mars  in  Athens. 

In  the  copy  after  Praxiteles  of  "Silenos  and  the 
Infant  Dionysos"  of  the  Louvre  (Fig.  116),  we 
get  more  of  the  real  spirit  of  love  which  that 
master  breathed  into  his  works  than  in  the  other 
copies  of  this  group.  It  is  a  beautiful  thought 
spoken  of  this  sculptor  that  "whenever  Praxiteles 
put  his  chisel  to  the  stone  the  little  god  of  love 
was  peeping  over  his  shoulder."  Could  any  ex- 
pression of  face  speak  greater  love  for  a  real  baby 
than  beams  from  the  face  of  Silenos  on  the  little 
Dionysos!  Look  at  the  eyes  of  the  foster-father; 
they  fairly  glow  with  the  living  fire  of  love,  un- 
selfish love.  It  was  into  the  eyes,  the  windows  of 
the  soul,  that  Praxiteles  put  the  full  measure  of  his 
marvellous  genius.  The  eyes  of  the  dreaming 
Hermes  of  Olympia  beam  with  love  pure  and  un- 
defiled,  yet  human  and  caressing.  And  also  in  the 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

eyes  of  Silenos  the  copyist  has  gathered  the  full 
force  of  the  god's  devotion  to  his  foster-child.  The 
baby,  too,  in  this  copy,  has  that  soft,  clinging  caress 
of  babyhood.  We  can  almost  hear  the  little  god's 
bubbling  laugh  and  contented  coo.  Comparing  the 
Louvre  group  with  the  one  in  Munich  (Fig.  92), 
we  are  conscious  of  the  greater  depth  of  feeling 
and  of  freer  rendering  of  the  human  baby.  The 
Louvre  copyist  has  attained  nearer  to  the  com- 
pelling power  of  the  great  Praxiteles. 

Yes,  it  is  a  long,  long  step  backward  from  the 
wonderfully  human  art  of  Praxiteles  to  the  art 
of  the  sculptor  who  made  the  uHera  (Juno)  of 
Samos"  (Fig.  117).  We  will  now  return  to  the 
Rotunde  and  enter  the  Salle  Grecque  and  find 
"Hera"  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  The  early  mo- 
tive in  Greek  art,  as  in  other  countries,  was  relig- 
ion; and,  believing  as  the  Greeks  did  that  their  gods 
embodied  the  varied  powers  of  nature,  they  natur- 
ally longed  for  them  to  assume  some  visible  form, 
and  who  but  an  artist  could  create  that  form.  At 
first,  unhewn  stones,  said  to  have  fallen  from 
heaven,  and  tree-trunks,  were  used  to  satisfy  that 
longing.  But  as  time  went  on  they  began  to  drape 
the  crude  symbols  to  represent  the  human  side  of 
their  gods.  Still  they  were  not  satisfied  and  then 
artists  began  to  dare  to  take  stones  similar  to  the 
sacred  heaven-sent  symbol,  and  with  hammer  and 
chisel,  hew  out  draped  figures.  Of  course  these 


118.     Relief  from  Thasos.     Louvre,  Paris. 


119.     Maidens  from  East  Frieze  of  Parthenon.     Louvre,  Paris. 


PARIS 

were  very  crude,  but  quaint  and  na'ive  as  the  work 
was  it  represented  to  them  a  very  human  deity. 

Now  look  at  the  goddess  Hera  of  the  Louvre. 
An  inscription  carved  on  the  border  of  her  second 
mantle  at  the  belt  says,  "Xerameus  consecrated  me 
a  votive  gift  to  Hera."  The  date  would  be  about 
600  B.  C,  but  not  later.  The  tree-trunk  idea  has 
been  preserved,  yet  a  complete  figure  has  been 
evolved  from  it.  Note  the  toes  projecting  from 
beneath  the  simulated  garment.  How  perfectly 
the  shape  of  the  hidden  foot  is  indicated;  the  long 
middle  toe  shows  that  the  sculptor  was  a  close  stu- 
dent of  nature.  There  is  great  ingenuity  in  render- 
ing the  drapery — four  garments  can  be  distin- 
guished. The  close  bound  arms  have  considerable 
shapeliness,  though  bound  within  proscribed  limits. 
As  an  example  of  the  beginnings  of  Greek  art, 
"Hera"  is  most  interesting. 

We  will  now  look  at  the  "Relief  from  Thasos" 
(Fig.  1 1 8)  standing  near  "Hera,"  and  see  the 
freedom  of  movement  of  the  figures — they  could 
walk  away,  which  Hera  could  not  do  for  more 
reasons  than  her  narrow  skirt.  Hermes,  in  the 
Relief,  is  easily  recognised  by  his  costume — the 
light  chalmis  which  falls  so  limply  over  his  arm. 
His  extended  right  arm  and  hand  can  easily  move, 
and  his  slender  neck  supports  his  head  with  real 
ease  of  bearing.  The  figure  of  the  Grace  following 
Hermes  is  charming.  Her  delicately  rounded  chin 

[157] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

and  the  curve  of  the  cheek  toward  the  shapely  ear 
and  down  the  lovely  neck  is  sweet  and  girlish.  Very 
daintily  the  two  braids  of  hair  cling  to  the  soft 
flesh,  even  if  they  do  over-emphasize  the  full  bust. 

These  slabs  were  made  the  first  of  the  fifth 
century,  before  the  Persian  wars,  and  were  prob- 
ably designed  for  the  entrance  of  a  sacred  cave — 
there  are  two  inscriptions  of  early  characters  on 
the  slabs  that  refer  to  sacrificial  rites.  The  Thasos 
Reliefs  were  made  more  than  a  century  before  the 
Parthenon  marbles,  yet  the  sculptor  is  breaking 
away  from  the  old  and  in  many  particulars  antici- 
pates what  was  perfected  by  Pheidias.  See  how 
he  has  brought  about  the  play  of  light  and  shade 
on  Hermes  in  the  relief  by  varying  the  depth  of 
the  background,  a  technique  unthought  of  before. 

Now  raise  your  eyes  to  the  "Maidens  from 
the  Frieze  of  the  Parthenon"  (Fig.  119),  just 
above  the  Thasos  relief,  and  note  how  the  Par- 
thenon sculptors  have  completed  what  was  begun 
in  the  treatment  of  Hermes.  They  have  also 
solved  other  problems  of  relief  sculpture.  This 
group  of  maidens  is  but  a  wee  bit  from  the  long 
procession  pictured  on  the  frieze,  reproduced  in  the 
British  Museum  (see  page  184),  yet  they  are  com- 
plete as  a  work  of  art.  Quiet  and  unobtrusive, 
they  fill  the  space  with  the  personalities  of  young 
maidens.  They  are  real  young  women  moving 
toward  the  seated  gods  with  a  definite  purpose. 


PARIS 

The  sculptor  has  not  only  used  the  varying  depth 
of  background  to  bring  out  the  light  and  shade, 
but  the  figures  and  folds  of  the  drapery  play  upon 
each  other  until  high  lights  and  shadows  come 
and  go  as  in  real  life,  and  yet  master-like  he  has 
hidden  the  means  by  which  he  produced  his  effects. 
These  three  examples  in  this  room  are  definite 
points  reached  by  the  sculptors  of  Greece  in  treat- 
ing religious  statues,  from  crude  beginnings  to  the 
perfected  religious  procession  of  the  Parthenon 
Frieze. 


[159] 


CHAPTER   XVII 
PARIS— LOUVRE   (Concluded) 

TVTICHAEL ANGELO'S "Dying Youth"  (Fig. 
-L^A  I20)  an(i  "Fettered  Slave"  (Fig.  121)  in 
the  Salle  de  Michel-Ange,  in  the  Louvre,  represent 
the  highest  achievement  of  the  sculptor's  art  during 
the  Renaissance  in  Italy.  Put  them  beside  the 
masterpieces  of  Pheidias  and  see  how,  after  two 
thousand  years,  sculpture  has  again  reached  the 
acme  of  excellence.  If  these  captives  could  have 
been  placed  among  the  statues  of  the  Parthenon 
pediments  what  would  have  been  the  judgment  of 
those  old  Greeks  ?  Surely  Pheidias  would  have  put 
them  in  a  place  of  honour.  These  statues  were 
designed  for  the  Mausoleum  of  Pope  Julius  II 
along  with  "Moses"  (Fig.  45),  but  when  the  size 
of  that  monument  was  reduced,  the  captives  were 
found  to  be  too  large  and  Michael  Angelo  gave 
them  to  Roberto  Strozzi,  who  sent  them  to  Francis 
I  of  France.  The  French  king  gave  them  to  the 
Constable  de  Montmorency,  who  used  them  to 
ornament  the  front  of  his  castle  in  Ecouen.  Later 
they  were  brought  by  Cardinal  Richelieu  to  one  of 
his  castles  at  Poitou ;  then,  fortunately  for  us,  the 
[160] 


PARIS 

cardinal's  sister  brought  them  to  Paris.  In  1793 
they  were  publicly  sold  and  the  Museum  of  the 
Louvre  bought  them. 

We  feel  that  in  the  captives  Michael  Angelo 
must  have  symbolized  his  own  fettered  spirit.  The 
limitations  put  upon  him  were  so  galling  that  when 
only  thirty  years  old  he  wrote  bitterly  to  Pope 
Julius  II,  "I  am  your  slave,  and  have  been  from 
youth."  He  was  as  truly  a  prisoner  under  the 
demands  of  a  pope  and  prince  as  though  he  were 
chained  in  a  cell.  The  "Dying  Youth"  is  more 
correctly  called  the  "Sleeping  Youth,"  and  as  such 
the  master's  lines  on  "Night,"  written  while  he 
was  in  the  quarries  of  Carrara,  are  a  fitting  tribute 
to  it. 

"  O  night,   O  sweet  though  sombre  space  of  time! 
All  things  find  rest  upon  their  journey's  end — 
Our  cares  thou  canst  to  quietude  sublime; 
For  dews  and  darkness  are  of  peace  the  friend." 

The  innocence  of  youth  is  portrayed  in  the  tender 
limbs,  pliable  flesh  and  rounded  contours  of  the 
body,  and  yet  how  suggestive  of  nascent  strength 
is  the  inert  body;  whether  overcome  by  death  or 
by  sleep  the  power  is  still  there.  The  simply  told 
story  of  suppressed  force  in  the  Sleeping  Youth  is 
very  powerful. 

The   Fettered  Captive,  writhing  to  break  the 
chains  that  bind  him,  is  so  real  in  his  agony  that 
we  too  feel  the  strain  of  his  struggles.    One  won- 
[161] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

ders  if  the  old  pope  recognized  the  irony  Michael 
Angelo  was  putting  into  these  statues,  as  he  watched 
the  sculptor  at  his  work  day  after  day.  At  least 
the  sparks  flew  when  these  two  fiery  natures  clashed 
— which  they  did  very  often — and  it  was  not 
unusual  that  Julius  was  the  one  who  had  to  sue 
for  peace,  or  he  had  no  more  work  from  the  sculp- 
tor. 

Though  the  bas-relief  of  "Julius  Caesar"  (Fig. 
122)  is  only  attributed  to  Donatello,  yet  it  bears 
many  ear-marks  of  this  sculptor.  As  we  study  this 
relief  of  "Caius  Julius  Caesar,  Dictator  of  the 
Earth,"  we  feel  the  character  of  the  man  whose 
name  is  the  title  of  four  empires  to-day — Caesar, 
Kaiser,  Czar,  Kaisar.  And  then  who  could  rep- 
resent character  better  than  Donatello,  whose  spe- 
cial excellence  was  to  portray  character?  Dona- 
tello also  brought  the  art  of  bas-relief  in  single 
works  to  a  very  high  state  of  perfection.  Light 
and  shade  play  on  his  figures  as  though  they  were 
painted,  and  so  they  are — with  a  steel  brush.  Note 
the  subtle  touch  of  humour  that  flits  over  the  face 
of  the  emperor;  it  comes  and  goes  as  though  a 
living  spirit  were  in  the  relief  itself.  No  Greek 
sculptor  was  more  restrained  in  giving  unnecessary 
details  or  in  overcrowding  a  work. 

It  is  not  at  all  incongruous  to  go  from  the  relief 
of  Julius  Caesar  of  the  fourteenth  century  A.  D. 
to  "Le  Scribe"  (Fig.  123)  of  the  fifth  century 
[162] 


PARIS 

B.  C,  for  both  portraits  represent  men  of  character, 
and  both  sculptors  were  masters  in  their  art.  This 
Egyptian  scribe  sitting  cross-legged  in  the  centre 
of  the  Salle  Civile,  in  the  Louvre,  is  one  of  the 
best  bits  of  the  ancient  art  of  the  Nile  in  existence. 
As  a  portrait  it  combines  the  personality  of  the 
individual  and  the  universal  characteristics  of  a 
class.  Like  Moroni's  "Tailor,"  in  the  National 
Gallery,  London  (see  "What  Pictures  to  See  in 
Europe,"  page  156),  he  is  a  man.  It  matters  lit- 
tle what  his  name  is;  he  is  of  value.  He  serves 
faithfully,  but  his  silence  is  of  respect,  not  servility. 
He  is  more  than  a  specialist,  this  stenographer. 
His  breadth  of  chest,  high  shoulders  and  well 
poised  head  are  proof  that  he  is  a  man  of  affairs. 

One  of  the  daintiest  groups  of  modern  sculpture 
is  Canova's  "Cupid  and  Psyche"  (Fig.  124),  in 
the  west  portion  of  the  Vieux  Louvre.  The  in- 
vasion of  the  French,  so  disastrous  to  the  art  works 
of  Italy  at  the  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century,  was 
Canova's  opportunity.  It  was  then  that  he  made 
his  "Perseus,"  a  statue  so  like  the  Apollo  Belvedere 
(Fig.  12)  in  pose  and  graceful  beauty  that  it  was 
not  only  secured  for  the  Vatican  gallery,  but  took 
the  place  of  the  Apollo,  while  the  latter  went  to 
Paris  with  Napoleon.  At  that  time  also,  he  made 
his  Venus  to  replace  the  Venus  de'  Medici  (Fig. 
56),  while  it  too  visited  the  French  capital.  The 
French  nation  proved  her  greatness  when,  after  the 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

sanity  of  peace  came,  she  returned  all  the  master- 
pieces taken  from  Italy  as  spoils  of  war. 

Canova's  group  of  "Cupid  and  Psyche"  has  sev- 
eral replicas  and  numerous  miniature  reproductions. 
Tenderly  and  delicately  Canova  has  wrought  out 
the  maiden  Psyche  and  the  god  of  love.  Cupid's 
kiss  is  as  gentle  as  the  falling  moonbeam,  and  his 
caress  as  tender  as  the  zephyr.  We  stand  abashed 
as  though  a  veil  had  been  lifted  from  a  sacred 
shrine. 

No  young  girl  in  all  history  has  been  more  often 
represented  in  painting  or  sculpture  than  Joan  of 
Arc.  It  is  now  nearly  five  hundred  years  since  St. 
Michael  appeared  to  this  peasant  girl  in  her 
father's  garden  at  Domremy,  France,  yet  her  vis- 
ions are  the  visions  the  artist  sees  as  he  paints  her 
with  brush  and  chisel.  Frangois  Rude's  "Joan  of 
Arc"  (Fig.  125)  stands  listening  to  the  prophetic 
words  of  St.  Michael.  "Joan,"  he  is  saying,  "you 
are  called  for  marvellous  things — dress  yourself 
in  armour.  You  shall  lead  in  war,  and  all  shall  be 
done  as  you  advise."  As  if  to  emphasise  the  reality 
of  her  vision,  Rude  has  placed  a  suit  of  mail  at  her 
side  and  encased  her  left  foot  in  steel  armour. 
Joan  never  holds  us  by  any  beauty  of  face  or  form, 
but  by  her  visions. 

Very  simple  and  girlish  is  "Joan  of  Arc"  (Fig. 
126),  as  Henri  Chapu  represents  her  seated  on  her 
feet  with  her  hands  clasped  and  her  face  raised  to 


PARIS 

the  vision  that  reveals  her  future.  Her  eyes  see 
beyond  the  veil;  her  destiny  is  fixed;  her  life  is  to 
fulfil  a  mission.  She  is  dignified  and  reposeful, 
though  her  attitude  is  tense  and  full  of  the  ardour 
of  an  earnest  purpose.  This  statue,  possibly  the 
greatest  of  Chapu's,  was  exhibited  in  the  Salon 
of  1870. 

France  was  in  a  deplorable  state  while  Joan  of 
Arc,  in  the  little  town  of  Domremy,  was  passing 
her  childhood  dreaming  dreams  and  seeing  visions 
for  the  rescue  of  her  beloved  country.  Charles  VI, 
who,  in  1392,  was  marching  against  the  Duke  of 
Brittany,  became  suddenly  demented  from  a  shock 
given  by  a  maniac  who  stopped  his  horse  and  cried, 
"Do  not  proceed  farther,  noble  king:  you  are  be- 
trayed." The  kingdom  was  now  torn  asunder  by 
internal  strife  between  the  Orleanists  and  the  Bur- 
gundians,  and  then,  to  add  to  the  disaffected  state, 
the  English  king  Henry  V  landed  in  Normandy 
and  was  victorious  over  the  French  at  Agincourt, 
1415.  Pillage,  murder,  fighting,  and  bloodshed 
and  the  death  of  the  mad  but  beloved  king,  Charles 
VI,  in  1422,  put  most  of  France  in  the  power  of 
the  English.  The  real  French  heir  to  the  throne, 
Charles  of  Valois,  was  poor  and  powerless,  with 
but  a  few  supporters  in  central  and  southern  France, 
while  Henry  VI  of  England  was  crowned  king  at 
St.  Denis.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Joan  of  Arc, 
the  Maid  of  Orleans,  came  to  the  rescue  and  saved 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

the  nation.  Poor  Joan,  only  a  child  in  her  early 
teens,  died  a  martyr.  Her  trial  was  shameful  and 
inhuman — a  fearful  disgrace  to  England  who  di- 
rected it,  and  to  France  who  furnished  the  fiend, 
Bishop  Beauvais,  to  conduct  the  trial.  At  last,  in 
1908,  France  has  acknowledged  her  debt  of  grati- 
tude and  has  placed  the  noble  peasant  girl  among 
the  saints  in  the  French  calendar. 

Stop  a  moment  and  look  at  Houdon's  bust  of 
Voltaire.  Rodin  says :  "It  is  the  personification  of 
malice.  See  the  sidelong  glance  that  seems  to  watch 
for  some  adversary.  He  has  the  pointed  nose  of 
the  fox.  He  seems  to  smell  out  abuse  and  ridicule 
on  every  side — you  can  fairly  see  it  quiver.  And 
the  mouth!  What  a  triumph! — A  cunning  old 
gossip — that  is  the  impression  produced  by  this 
Voltaire  at  once  so  lively,  so  sickly  and  so  unmascu- 
line." 

The  "Centaur  and  the  Lapith"  (Fig.  127),  by 
Barye,  is  one  of  several  groups  where  this  sculptor 
has  shown  his  accurate  knowledge  of  comparative 
anatomy.  Until  Barye  came  with  his  vitalising 
chisel,  no  sculptor  ever  even  approached  the  old 
Greeks  in  representing  these  chimerical  beings  of 
mythology.  The  ancient  Greeks  made  companions 
of  the  Centaurs,  and  when  Pirithous  and  Hippo- 
domia  were  married,  these  half-human  creatures 
were  invited  ;o  the  wedding.  But  unfortunately, 
Eurython,  one  of  the  Centaurs,  drank  too  freely 
[166] 


PARIS 

of  the  wine  and  overstepped  the  bounds  of  pro- 
priety toward  the  bride.  This  angered  the  men, 
and  then  broke  out  the  famous  battle  of  the 
Lapithae  and  the  Centaurs.  A  full  account  of  the 
battle  is  pictured  on  the  metopes  of  the  Parthenon 
(see  Fig.  143). 

Barye's  portrayal  of  power  in  the  onrush  of  this 
half-human  monster  is  only  equalled  by  the  marvel- 
lous strength  of  the  arresting  arm  of  the  Lapith. 
The  sculptor  has  made  us  feel  that  the  true  home 
of  these  half-brute,  half-human  creatures  was  in 
the  free  air  of  the  woods  and  the  fields,  and  that 
when  the  liberty  of  human  companionship  was 
given  them,  their  wild  nature  took  it  as  license. 
Note  the  combination  of  man-body  and  horse-body 
and  see  how  the  muscles  of  the  neck  and  back  have 
coalesced  into  a  trunk  that  the  Lapith  easily  bends 
back  to  his  knee.  Look  at  the  stretch  of  the  skin 
over  the  ribs  in  both  antagonists  and  note  the  same 
freedom  in  the  use  of  the  arms  in  both.  We  think 
very  little  of  the  uncanny  union  of  horse  and  man 
in  this  monster  because  our  interest  centres  on  the 
strange  conflict.  The  brute  force  of  that  shapely 
body  is  tremendous,  yet  the  weakness  of  the  spirit 
in  the  upturned  face  shows  plainly  that  the  Centaur 
has  met  his  master.  One  blow  of  the  club  in  the 
raised  hand  of  the  Lapith  will  still  the  monster  for- 
ever. 

Barye  was  a  realist  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word. 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

Let  us  now  stand  before  his  lions  and  we  will  say 
with  Alfred  de  Musset,  "What  vigour  and  what 
truth !  Where  indeed  has  he  found  a  way  of  mak- 
ing such  models  pose?  Is  his  atelier  a  desert  of 
Africa  or  a  forest  of  Hindustan?" 


[168] 


. 

3»s 


a 


128.     The  Lion  and  the  Serpent.     Antoine  Louis  Barye. 
The  Tuileries  Gardens,  Paris. 


129.     Florentine  Singer.    Paul  Dubois  (1829—?). 
Luxembourg,  Paris. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 
PARIS— MISCELLANEOUS 

ANTOINE  BARYE  was  at  his  best  in  his  ani- 
mals, and  of  these  animals  the  lion  most 
nearly  represents  the  man  himself,  a  man  of  "lofty, 
isolated  strength."  As  we  leave  the  Louvre  facing 
the  Seine,  his  colossal  bronze  "Seated  Lion"  is 
beside  us  in  all  its  lofty  isolated  strength.  When 
Barye  had  finished  this  superb  beast  the  French 
authorities  asked  for  a  balancing  figure.  Barye, 
not  willing  to  cheapen  his  masterpiece  by  duplica- 
tion, submitted,  at  a  very  high  figure,  a  companion- 
piece.  This  they  refused  because  of  lack  of  funds, 
they  said,  and  had  a  reversed  lion  cast  for  the 
place — a  cruel  hurt  to  the  master.  What  are  the 
few  thousand  francs  to-day,  we  ask,  compared  with 
the  loss  of  a  masterpiece  by  Barye?  We  now 
know  how  true  a  prophet  this  master  was,  when  in 
answer  to  his  wife's  remark  during  his  last  illness, 
as  she  dusted  the  bronzes  standing  around,  "My 
dear,  when  you  are  better,  see  that  the  signatures 
are  more  legible." 

"Never  fear,"  replied  Barye,  "before  twenty 
years  have  passed,  people  will  be  using  a  magnify- 
ing glass  to  my  signatures."  And  they  were. 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

When  the  cast  of  Barye's  "Lion  Crushing  a 
Serpent"  (Fig.  128),  that  now  stands  in  the  Tui- 
leries  Gardens,  was  exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1833, 
it  must  have  startled  the  rule-by-thumb  Acade- 
micians and  their  studio-made  lions.  Theophile 
very  amusingly  writes,  uAt  the  sight  of  Barye's 
superb  and  terrible  beast  bristling  his  unkempt 
mane,  wrinkling  his  muzzle  with  a  rage  mingled 
with  disgust  above  the  hideous  reptile  which,  pinned 
under  his  claws,  writhes  in  convulsions  of  impotent 
rage,  all  these  poor  old  marble  lions  must  have 
whipped  their  tails  between  their  legs,  and  in  as- 
tonishment nearly  let  go  the  ball  which  served  to 
keep  them  in  countenance."  Another  writer  of  the 
time  says  of  the  startling  innovation,  "It  seemed 
to  me  at  first  the  lion  moved;  yesterday  I  heard 
it  roar."  Wait  a  moment;  I  think  that  we  too  may 
hear  it  roar!  When  the  state  bought  the  group 
and  placed  it  in  the  public  gardens  we  are  not 
surprised  that  one  critic  exclaimed,  "Since  when 
were  the  Tuileries  a  menagerie?"  One  of  the 
strange  contradictions  of  Barye's  work  is  that, 
whether  colossal  or  diminutive,  the  spirit  of  gran- 
deur is  the  same.  The  fact  that  the  blindness  of 
the  French  critics  compelled  him  to  manufacture 
paper-weights  for  a  living  did  not  lessen  his  pains- 
taking care  in  each  article,  every  one  of  which  he 
signed  with  his  own  hand.  Many  a  humble  home 
has  been  the  gainer  in  possessing  one  of  these  treas- 


PARIS 

ures,  yet  what  a  loss  to  the  world  that  that  power 
could  not  have  been  put  into  monumental  master- 
pieces. 

In  the  Luxembourg  is  Paul  Dubois'  "Florentine 
Singer"  (Fig.  129),  a  statue  that  brought  the 
sculptor  immediate  fame.  In  this  thoughtful  youth 
is  combined  the  soul  of  music  and  the  spirit  of  song. 
Every  line  of  his  body  pulsates  with  the  rhythm 
that  flows  from  his  parted  lips.  The  song  comes 
as  spontaneously  through  the  boy's  open  mouth  as 
his  breath.  The  strings  of  his  instrument  respond 
to  his  delicate  touch  simply  as  a  gentle  reminder 
that  all  things  are  atune  to  the  song  in  his  heart. 
Though  perfectly  simple  in  composition,  yet  this 
peasant  boy  stirs  us  curiously.  Again  and  again 
we  look  up  into  those  downcast  eyes  and  listen  to 
the  melody  that  comes  from  those  silent  lips. 
There  is  something  fascinating  in  the  unkempt  hair 
and  the  slender  boyish  figure.  Sing  on,  my  guile- 
less boy,  may  you  ever  keep  the  music  of  purity 
that  is  now  your  birthright. 

Dubois  was  a  leader  in  French  art  in  the  middle 
of  the  last  century.  In  him  is  united  the  intense 
fervour  of  Donatello  and  the  love  of  balanced 
order,  the  latter  never  overstepping  the  laws  of 
decorum,  yet  always  free  and  unfettered  in  expres- 
sion. The  time  had  come  in  France  when  the 
severely  classical  no  longer  held  sway.  Not  Barye 
alone  saw  animals  as  living  creatures  but  all  artists, 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

even  the  most  conservative,  were  observing  nature 
with  seeing  eyes.  A  French  Renaissance  was  at 
hand  and  Paul  Dubois  became  a  brilliant  director 
of  the  Ecole  des  Beaux-Arts  and  a  leader  of  the 
younger  French  students.  His  "Narcissus,"  also 
in  the  Luxembourg,  expresses  the  new  spirit  of  the 
Renaissance. 

Saint  Marceaux'  * 'Genius  Guarding  the  Secret 
of  the  Tomb,"  in  the  Luxembourg  (Fig.  130), 
reminds  us  of  Michael  Angelo.  The  strain  of  the 
muscles  in  the  unnatural  twist  of  the  body  is  quite 
like  that  of  the  great  master,  yet  how  weak  is 
the  cause  of  the  strain  in  Marceaux'  work  com- 
pared with  that  in  the  "Fettered  Slave"  (Fig. 
121 ).  Perhaps  if  the  figure  of  "Genius"  were 
part  of  a  group  to  be  viewed  from  a  distance  above 
us,  the  unpleasant  striving-for-effect  impression 
would  disappear,  and  then  the  strength  of  the  nude 
body  would  captivate  us. 

In  "St.  John  the  Baptist,"  in  the  Luxembourg, 
(Fig.  131),  Auguste  Rodin  illustrates  his  own  be- 
lief that  "that  which  is  considered  ugly  in  Nature 
often  presents  more  character  than  that  which  is 
called  beautiful — "  and  further  on  he  writes,  "and 
as  it  is  solely  the  power  of  character  which  makes 
for  beauty  in  Art,  it  often  happens  that  the  uglier 
a  being  is  in  Nature,  the  more  beautiful  in  Art." 
Now  as  we  look  at  this  half-starved  preacher  we 
do  see  that  his  power  over  us  is  because  an  inner 


9  OH 


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PARIS 

truth  shines  forth  in  his  every  word.  The  gaunt, 
emaciated  body  speaks  only  of  an  exalted  spirit 
that  carries  conviction  to  each  soul. 

But  what  words  can  possibly  do  justice  to  the 
tremendous  genius  of  Rodin,  the  "Shakespeare  in 
Stone?"?  Instead  of  genius  meaning  madness  as 
some  assert,  Rodin  himself  says,  "But  men  of 
genius  are  just  those  who  by  their  trade-skill  carry 
the  essential  thing  to  perfection."  And  that  is 
just  it;  Rodin  seeks  the  essential,  the  distinguishing 
mark  in  person  or  thing  and  centres  all  his  thought 
around  that  until  a  full  character  is  developed. 

For  twenty  years  Rodin  has  been  working  on  the 
famous  "Door  of  Hell,"  of  the  Museum  of  Deco- 
rative Arts.  He  began  the  work  with  Dante's 
"Inferno"  as  a  suggestive  plan,  and  to-day  the  two 
"Infernos,"  Dante's  and  Rodin's,  stand  as  the  two 
great  masterpieces  in  word  pictures  and  bronze  pic- 
tures of  all  time.  The  solitary  figure,  "The 
Thinker"  (Fig.  132),  in  front  of  the  Pantheon, 
Paris,  is  Dante  brooding  over  the  awful  visions 
his  own  brain  conjured  and  Rodin  has  made  visible. 
In  "The  Thinker"  is  expressed  power,  to  create  a 
vision  of  eternal  damnation,  and  knowledge,  that 
the  efforts  of  the  condemned  for  release  are  futile. 
Above  the  portal  through  which  they  came  is  writ- 
ten, "Abandon  hope  all  ye  who  enter  here !"  and 
the  brooding  figure  emphasizes  their  doom. 

We  will  now  visit  the  "Ancient  Queen  of  Ca- 

[173] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

thedrals,"  as  Victor  Hugo  calls  Notre  Dame,  and 
look  at  those  strange,  ugly,  grotesque  creatures  that 
guard  that  sacred  edifice.  At  projecting  corner  and 
secret  angle  they  peer  down  at  us,  or,  ignoring 
our  existence,  gaze  out  on  the  vast  city  with  its 
multitude  of  people  moving  far  below.  They  are 
neither  brute  nor  animal,  these  gargoyles,  yet  in 
them  is  found  pictured  every  attribute  of  the  human 
soul.  Even  if  pure  animal  in  form,  they  express 
an  uncanny  understanding  of  human  frailties.  No 
one  knows  the  names  of  the  artists  who  evolved 
the  curious  genie,  yet  nearly  a  millennium  ago  they 
crowded  nook  and  crevice,  pinnacle  and  point  of 
Notre  Dame  with  their  creations.  That  some  of 
them  carry  off  the  waste  water  of  the  vast  roof  is 
true,  but  that  more  of  them  are  grinning,  sneering, 
scowling,  scoffing,  laughing,  and  poking  all  sorts  of 
fun  at  us  is  equally  true.  It  is  well  worth  a  trip 
to  the  roof  of  Notre  Dame  just  to  get  close  to 
these  monsters  of  superhuman  intelligence.  You 
will  find  that  each  individual  creature  is  carefully 
and  artistically  finished  and  that  of  the  multitude 
of  figures  no  two  are  alike.  Look  at  Biscornette 
himself  (Fig.  133)  ;  how  wonderfully  detailed  yet 
how  broad  in  conception!  The  old  legend  that 
gave  to  Biscornette  the  power  of  bestowing  unsur- 
passed skill  if  the  artist  would  deed  his  soul  to  the 
fiend,  is  portrayed  in  this  figure  leaning  on  the 
parapet  with  his  leering  face  sunk  in  his  claw-like 

[174] 


PARIS 

hands.  These  grotesque  beings  grip  us  like  a  vise ; 
we  feel  with  Victor  Hugo's  gossips  that  "eyes  and 
mouths  open  here  and  there;  the  dogs,  and  the 
dragons,  and  the  griffins  of  stone  which  keep  watch 
night  and  day  with  outstretched  neck  and  open 
jaws,  around  the  cathedral,"  are  really  heard  to 
bark  and  howl,  yet  how  artistic  they  are  in  their 
ugliness!  The  harmony  of  line  and  symmetry  in 
decoration  is  simply  perfect  in  variety  and  interest. 

We  should  probably  regret  if  we  left  Paris  with- 
out seeing  the  statue  of  "Athena  Medici"  (Fig. 
134),  in  the  Ecole  des  Beaux-Arts.  This  statue,  of 
all  existing  ones  of  Athena,  will  give  us  the  best 
idea  of  the  Greek  conception  of  the  goddess  of 
wisdom;.  She  is  every  inch  a  woman  of  power, 
of  dignity,  of  poise,  as  she  stands  before  us.  The 
grand  and  simple  lines  that  form  the  quiet,  restful 
attitude  of  this  goddess  carved  from  Pentalic  mar- 
ble mark  her  as  belonging  to  the  Pheidian  age  in 
spirit,  though  some  claim  that  she  is  a  Roman  copy 
of  a  Greek  work.  At  one  time  this  statue  belonged 
to  the  Medici  collection,  which  gave  it  the  name 
"Athena  Medici." 

The  one  work  of  really  artistic  merit  to  see  in 
the  Pere-Lachaise  Cemetery,  is  Albert  Barto- 
lome's  "Monument  des  Morts"  (Fig.  135).  The 
sculptor  has  preserved  the  general  plan  of  the 
"Relief  of  Thasos"  (Fig.  118),  but  in  his  own  in- 
dividual style.  Could  anything  express  aloneness 

[175] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

more  vividly  than  the  two  figures  at  the  door  of 
the  tomb?  The  woman,  with  true  womanly  in- 
stinct, stretches  an  appealing  hand  to  her  life-long 
companion,  yet  her  face  is  set  toward  the  un- 
known. She  is  unafraid,  only  she  wants  to  feel 
the  companionship  of  her  mate  until  the  moment 
of  going  forth  alone.  He  stands  alone,  yet  would 
his  attitude  of  strength  be  complete  without  the 
woman  near  him?  Compare  the  approaching 
figures  on  either  side  of  the  open  doorway.  At 
the  right,  while  they  hesitate  and  even  look  back, 
there  is  no  terror  to  them  in  the  thought  of  death. 
Not  so  with  those  on  the  left.  See  how  they 
are  pushed  forward  by  some  invisible  force,  terror 
written  on  faces  and  forms.  They  cringe  and 
agonise  as  they  stumble  toward  the  tomb,  but  no 
effort  on  their  part  retards  their  forward  move- 
ment. This  relief,  though  not  pleasing  in  sub- 
ject, is  tremendous  in  its  significance.  Possibly 
we  are  the  more  interested  in  this  group  because 
of  the  very  few  works  of  art  at  the  Pere-Lachaise. 
Its  ground  is  hallowed  with  the  ashes  of  the  great, 
but  its  tombs  are  hideous  with  tawdry  bead  work 
and  cheap  tinsel  decorations.  Bartolome's  monu- 
ment in  bronze  stands  as  a  beginning,  we  hope,  of 
more  memorials  worthy  the  artistic  French  people. 


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CHAPTER    XIX 
LONDON— BRITISH  MUSEUM 

JUST  the  name,  "British  Museum,"  is  over- 
whelming! The  vast  building,  with  its  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  treasures,  simply  paralyses 
the  mind.  Usually  the  general  tourist  wanders  aim- 
lessly, seeing  a  few  things,  of  course,  but  compre- 
hending very  little.  Naturally,  we  shall  confine 
^ourselves  to  the  sculpture,  yet  here  again  we  are 
overwhelmed,  for  the  whole  world  has  contributed 
to  this  single  department.  Let  us  begin  then  with 
Greece  and  go  at  once  to  the  Parthenon  marbles, 
the  treasure  of  treasures. 

But  stop;  we  must  see  "Demeter  of  Cnidus" 
(Fig.  136),  sitting  here  in  the  entryway!  Demeter 
is  the  so-called  Mater  Doloroso  of  antiquity.  You 
will  remember  that  Demeter,  or  Ceres,  the  goddess 
of  agriculture,  was  the  mother  of  Persephone,  the 
maiden  who  was  compelled  to  spend  six  months 
every  year  in  the  lower  regions  away  from  her 
mother  (typifying  winter).  This  statue  of  De- 
meter  was  one  of  many  fragmentary  works  of  art 
found  at  Cnidus,  Asia  Minor,  in  a  private  shrine  on 
a  precipice  overhanging  the  sea.  The  precious 
marbles  of  the  temples  and  shrines  of  Cnidus 

[  177] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

served  for  many  years  as  quarries  for  the  Greeks 
and  Turks.  Even  as  late  as  1838  Mehemet  Ali 
used  shiploads  of  the  choice  treasures  to  build  his 
palace.  But  in  1858  the  discoveries  of  Professor 
Newton  put  a  stop  to  such  vandalism. 

The  body  of  Demeter,  of  schistous  marble,  is 
badly  mutilated,  but  the  exquisite  head,  of  Parian 
marble,  is  so  like  the  Hermes  of  Olympia  in  beauty 
of  workmanship  that  we  feel  the  touch  of  Praxite- 
les. We  would  gladly  associate  this  tenderly  lov- 
ing mother  with  the  divine  Aphrodite  (Fig.  13), 
the  centre  of  attraction  at  Cnidus.  The  mingling 
of  grief  and  hopeful  mother-love  is  so  subtle  that 
it  is  impossible  to  tell  wherein  it  lies.  The  eyes 
have  the  far-away  look  of  resignation,  yet  the 
mouth  is  all  but  ready  to  smile.  The  sculptor  has 
perfectly  balanced  the  mother's  hopelessness  in 
search  for  her  lost  child  with  her  thankfulness  at 
Pluto's  (Persephone's  husband)  promise  that  she 
should  return  to  her  mother  half  of  each  year. 

Another  episode  in  the  story  of  Persephone  is 
found  in  "Thanatos,  Alcestas  and  Hermes,"  on 
the  Drum  Column,  from  Ephesus  (Fig.  137) 
in  the  room  between  the  anteroom  and  the  Par- 
thenon marbles.  The  myth  is  that  when  Admetos 
married  the  beautiful  Alcestas  the  goddess  Arte- 
mis (Diana)  was  greatly  incensed  that  she  was 
not  invited  to  the  wedding,  and  in  revenge  sent 
snakes  to  the  bridal  chamber.  Apollo,  however, 


LONDON 

interceded  with  his  sister  Artemis,  and  also  wrung 
the  promise  from  the  Fates  that  Admetos  need 
not  die  if  any  one  was  willing  to  take  his  place.  But 
unluckily,  Alcestas,  his  beloved  bride,  insisted  that 
she  should  be  the  one  to  die,  and  the  Fates  decreed 
it  should  be  so.  Thanatos  (Death)  led  her  away. 
Persephone  (just  beyond  Hermes  on  the  column), 
overcome  with  such  self-sacrifice,  bids  Hermes,  the 
conductor  of  souls,  take  Alcestas  back  to  Admetos. 
On  the  other  side  of  Alcestas  is  Thanatos  looking 
sorrowfully  disappointed.  The  treatment  of  the 
drapery  of  Alcestas'  garments  is  considered  one  of 
the  most  wonderful  pieces  of  realism  in  all  sculp- 
ture. So  soft  is  the  texture  of  the  material  that  the 
folds  held  by  Alcestas  would  fall  to  the  floor  if 
her  fingers  were  in  the  least  relaxed.  It  seems  in- 
credible that  a  substance  so  obdurate  as  marble 
could  be  made  to  appear  so  soft  and  yielding. 

This  sculptured  drum  is  part  of  a  column  be- 
longing to  the  temple  of  the  great  goddess  Diana, 
one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world,  that  was 
in  its  prime  when  St.  Paul  was  in  Ephesus  (Acts 
xix).  The  original  temple  on  this  spot,  built  as 
early  as  the  sixth  century  B.  C.,  was  burned  in  356 
B.  C.,  and  was  rebuilt  by  Alexander  the  Great. 
Part  of  a  sculptured  column  of  the  archaic  temple, 
also  in  this  room,  has  an  inscription  that  implies 
that  King  Croesus  dedicated  the  column,  as  He- 
rodotus has  stated. 

[179] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

At  last  we  stand  before  the  Parthenon  Marbles ! 
Broken  and  fragmentary  they  are,  but  powerful 
and  compelling.  When  Pericles  appointed  Phei- 
dias  to  superintend  the  rebuilding  of  Athens  after 
the  Persian  invasion,  the  fifth  century  B.  C.,  he 
made  it  possible  for  the  world  to  inherit  great 
masterpieces.  If  Pheidias  did  not  personally  carve 
the  statues,  he  must  at  least  have  designed  them. 
The  barest  outline  of  the  history  of  the  Parthenon 
from  the  time  Pausanias  (second  century  B.  C.) 
reported,  "What  one  sees  on  the  pediment  (gable) 
as  one  enters  the  temple  is  entirely  concerned  with 
the  birth  of  Athena ;  while  at  the  back  is  the  strife 
of  Poseidon  against  Athena  for  the  land,"  until 
the  explosion  of  the  Turkish  powder  magazine 
within  the  temple  in  the  year  1687,  is  full  of  in- 
tense interest. 

Three  centuries  after  Pausanias  wrote,  the  colos- 
sal Athena  Parthenos  was  taken  to  enrich  the  circus 
of  Constantinople.  In  A.  D.  435,  the  temple  was 
first  used  as  a  Christian  church.  Very  little  change 
was  made  externally  until  the  rounded  apse  was 
built  in  1205,  when  the  central  slab  of  the  frieze 
and  probably  the  central  group  of  the  east  pedi- 
ment, containing  the  birth  of  Athena,  were  re- 
moved. In  1674,  shortly  before  the  explosion, 
Carrey,  a  French  artist,  made  a  drawing  of  both 
pediments.  In  this  drawing  not  only  the  central 
group  of  the  east  pediment  is  missing,  but  in  the 
t  180] 


LONDON 

west  one  the  goddess  is  scarcely  recognizable.  A 
little  later  the  Venetian  Morosini  decided  to  take 
Athena's  horses  and  Poseidon  away  with  him,  but 
while  lowering  them  the  tackling  broke  and  the 
precious  treasures  fell  to  the  ground,  where  uthey 
went  up  into  dust." 

What  was  left  of  the  sculptures  after  the  explo- 
sion were  exposed  to  the  elements  and  the  vandal- 
ism of  man  until  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  when  Lord  Elgin  obtained  permission  of 
the  Porte  to  carry  them  off  to  England.  Fifteen 
years  later,  in  1816,  the  English  government 
bought  them  and  placed  them  in  the  British 
Museum. 

It  is  still  a  debatable  question  just  how  the  birth 
of  Athena  was  represented  on  the  lost  slab  of  the 
east  pediment.  A  relief  on  a  well  head  in  Madrid 
may  possibly  be  the  correct  picture.  In  this  relief 
Athena,  fully  armed,  stands  in  front  of  seated  Zeus. 
Hephsestos  (Vulcan),  back  of  Zeus,  starts  away  as 
if  affrighted  at  the  result  of  the  blow  he  has  dealt 
the  head  of  Zeus  with  his  lifted  hammer  (see  page 
33).  At  least  this  representation  is  more  fitting 
for  the  monumental  character  of  the  marbles  of 
the  Parthenon  than  the  one  commonly  pictured  on 
the  old  Attic  vases.  That  picture  shows  Athena, 
a  pigmy  goddess,  springing  directly  from  the  head 
of  Zeus  and  floating  away  like  an  inflated  doll. 
Certainly  to  have  Athena  as  the  pivotal  figure  un- 
[181] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

der  the  apex  of  the  pediment  would  seem  more 
appropriate. 

Probably  the  most  widely  known  of  all  the 
Parthenon  statues  is  the  group  of  the  so-called 
"Three  Fates"  (Fig.  138).  No  matter  whether 
the  figures  are  the  fates  or  personify  the  home,  the 
earth  and  the  sea,  they  represent  the  grandest 
group  of  graduated  statues  for  pedimental  space- 
filling ever  conceived  by  the  mind  of  man.  Surely 
the  builder  must  have  made  the  space  for  them! 
That  reclining  figure  has  the  perfect  relaxation  of  a 
young  woman  who  has  thrown  herself  on  a  couch 
and  leaned  against  her  friend  for  heart  to  heart 
confidences.  They  probably  have  heard  nothing 
yet  of  the  wonderful  birth  of  Athena,  though  the 
older  friend,  sitting  a  little  apart,  seems  to  be 
aroused  by  something  unusual.  The  turn  of  her 
neck  is  toward  the  centre,  the  extended  left  foot 
and  leg  and  the  drawing  in  of  the  right  indicate 
that  she  is  about  to  rise  and  investigate  the  cause 
of  the  disturbance. 

Beyond  the  reclining  figure,  in  the  Three  Fates, 
is  a  fragment  of  Selene  (the  Moon)  driving  her 
horses  into  the  sea.  The  nigh  horse,  poking  its 
nose  over  the  edge,  is  instinct  with  life.  An  Eng- 
lishwoman looking  intently  at  the  quivering  nos- 
trils, confided  to  me: 

"It's  so  alive  it  gives  me  a  turn!"  In  the  nos- 
trils and  behind  the  ears  is  still  found  a  little  of  the 


139.      Theseus.     East    Pediment   from    Parthenon.     British    Museum 
London. 


140.     Cephissus.     West  Pediment  from  Parthenon.     British    Museum, 
London. 


LONDON 

original  paint — we  are  confident  that  the  Parthenon 
marbles  were  originally  in  colour. 

To  the  right  of  the  space  of  the  lost  Athena 
group  is  "Theseus"  (Fig.  139),  the  only  figure 
left  with  a  head  and  even  on  this  the  nose  is  broken. 
Here  again  this  god  is  still  unconscious  of  the  great 
event  being  passed  down  to  him.  Next  to  the 
central  group  is  Iris,  the  messenger  of  the  gods, 
who  is  proclaiming  the  news  as  she  starts  away 
from  the  scene  of  action.  She  has  delivered  the 
message  to  Persephone,  who  was  leaning  against 
Ceres  (Demeter),  but  is  now  rising  to  tell  her 
mother. 

Theseus,  reclining  with  his  face  away  from  the 
mother  and  daughter,  has  heard  nothing.  What 
a  magnificent  figure  it  is  in  size,  strength  of  muscle, 
suggestive  bone  structure,  and  firm,  warm  flesh ! 
The  god's  rest  implies  more  work  to  follow.  How 
his  discarded  cloak  crinkles  in  folds  as  it  falls 
below  his  resting  arm !  This  one  head  gives  us 
some  slight  conception  of  the  grandeur  of  the  fig- 
ures when  they  were  perfect. 

The  central  group  of  the  west  pediment  repre- 
sented the  contest  between  Athena  and  Poseidon 
for  the  land  of  Attica.  In  the  Carrey  drawing, 
hanging  below  the  figures,  this  pediment  is  shown 
partly  complete.  Poseidon  (Neptune),  you  re- 
member, gave  the  horse,  in  their  contest,  and 
Athena  the  olive  tree.  The  gods  decided  in 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

favour  of  the  olive  tree  as  the  most  useful  to  the 
people. 

At  the  extreme  right  of  the  centre  of  the  west 
pediment  is  "Cephissus"  (Fig.  140),  a  river-god; 
Pausanias  says  river-gods  are  quite  common  figures 
in  Greek  sculpture.  An  ancient  writer,  in  describing 
the  texture  of  the  body,  says:  "More  liquid  than 
water."  It  takes  no  stretch  of  imagination  to  know 
that  the  garment  clinging  to  the  left  arm  is  heavy 
with  the  water  running  from  its  limp  folds. 

Out  of  more  than  four  hundred  feet  of  the  sculp- 
tured frieze  of  the  Parthenon  that  survived  after 
the  explosion  in  1674,  two  hundred  and  forty  feet 
are  in  the  British  Museum.  Let  me  disabuse  your 
minds  of  the  error  of  thinking  that  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  ought  to  have  been  left  in  Greece. 
When  Lord  Elgin  brought  the  Parthenon  marbles 
away,  he  had  casts  made  of  the  slabs  of  the  frieze 
left  in  situ  to  show  the  entire  set  of  frieze  sculp- 
tures— over  five  hundred  feet. 

Seventy  years  later  another  set  of  casts  were 
made  of  the  slabs  still  in  Greece,  when  it  was 
found  that  many  of  the  reliefs  had  deteriorated 
wofully — in  one  place  a  man's  leg  was  gone,  in 
another  a  horse's  foot  and  ear,  and  still  another, 
parts  of  a  face,  etc.,  which  is  a  convincing  argu- 
ment that  Lord  Elgin  came  none  too  soon  to  save 
the  precious  treasure.  To-day  the  Greek  govern- 
ment is  taking  every  precaution  to  preserve  what 


LONDON 

now  remains.  Lord  Elgin  claimed  to  have  brought 
away  only  the  sculptures  that  were  detached  from 
the  building. 

The  subject  of  the  Parthenon  frieze  is  the  great 
Panathenaic  procession  to  the  Acropolis  in  honour 
of  Athena.  On  the  slabs  were  pictured  in  low 
relief  more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  people 
and  about  one  hundred  horses,  besides  animals  for 
the  sacrifice,  yet  no  two  figures  are  alike. 

The  "Procession  of  Youths"  (Fig.  141)  repre- 
sents the  cream  of  young  manhood  in  Athens.  This 
very  low  relief  is  the  most  wonderful  example  of 
that  work  that  the  ancients  have  left  us.  How 
well  the  restiveness  of  the  horses  match  the  restless 
impatience  of  youth.  Horses  and  youths  have  that 
nervous,  high-strung  bearing  that  points  to  a  long 
pedigree  of  nobility.  If  Pheidias  did  not  carve 
these  splendid  youths  and  their  noble  horses,  he 
surely  designed  them.  A  master  mind  willed,  and 
they  live  before  us ! 

As  the  frieze  formed  a  continuous  band  of  low 
relief  pictures  around  the  main  body  or  cella  of  the 
Parthenon  under  the  portico,  so  the  metopes 
formed  a  band  of  high  relief  pictures  around  the 
outside  of  the  building.  Each  metope  or  square 
panel,  carved  in  high  relief,  alternated  with  panels 
carved  with  sets  of  vertical  bands  (the  triglyphs). 
The  subject  of  the  reliefs  is  the  famous  battle  of 
the  Lapith  and  Centaurs.  There  are  ninety-two 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

separate  metopes;  each  one  is  complete  in  itself, 
yet  forms  a  link  in  the  story. 

Before  the  men  at  the  wedding  (see  page  166) 
realised  what  was  happening  a  "Centaur  with  a 
Lapith  Woman"  (Fig.  142)  has  galloped  off, 
followed  by  others.  The  centaur's  raised  tail  and 
the  woman's  falling,  fluttering  drapery  intensify 
the  sense  of  motion !  This  creature  is  really  not 
cruel  in  his  excess  of  fun,  only  gleefully  triumphant 
as  he  rushes  away  with  his  prize.  Though  the 
metopes  are  unequal  in  quality,  yet  some  are  of 
great  excellence.  In  this  one  the  rendering  of  the 
beautiful  contour  of  the  centaur's  body,  showing 
skin  and  veins,  and  the  use  of  the  flying  drapery  in 
filling  the  space  above  his  back,  is  superb.  The 
resemblance  to  the  portrait  of  Socrates  is  often 
noted  in  the  face  of  this  centaur. 

Also  the  metope  of  the  "Lapith  attacking  a 
Centaur"  (Fig.  143)  is  fine.  The  natural  playful- 
ness of  the  queer  creature  has  here  given  place  to 
animal  fear,  for  he  recognizes  that  a  superior  in- 
telligence is  conquering. 


[186] 


141.    Procession  of  Youths.     North  Frieze  from  Parthenon.     British 
Museum,  London. 


142.    Centaur  with  Lapith  Woman. 
Metope  from  Parthenon. 
British  Museum,  London. 


143.    Lapith  Attacking  Centaur. 
Metope  from  Partnenon. 
British  Museum,  London. 


1*1 


CHAPTER    XX 

LONDON— ANCIENT    SCULPTURE, 
BRITISH  MUSEUM   (Continued) 

TN  the  same  room  with  the  Parthenon  Marbles 
•••  is  a  single  "Caryatid"  (Fig.  144),  from  the 
Erechtheum,  Athens.  The  Erechtheum  was  a  tem- 
ple probably  dedicated  to  Athena  and  Erechtheus. 
Homer  says  in  the  Odyssey:  "And  (Athena) 
came  to  Marathon  and  Athens  with  its  spacious 
streets,  and  entered  the  well-built  house  of  Erech- 
theus," but  in  the  Iliad  he  states  that  Athena  re- 
ceived Erechtheus  in  her  own  rich  temple.  At  least 
we  may  conclude  from  these  two  references  that  the 
original  temple  was  a  very  ancient  one  and  that 
Erechtheus  was  a  national  hero  and  that  Athena 
was  the  goddess  of  Athens. 

On  the  west  end  of  the  temple  is  the  portico  of 
"The  Maidens,"  later  called  "Caryatids."  The 
latter  name  possibly  may  come  from  the  town  of 
Carya  in  Arcadia,  for  the  story  is  that  after  the 
battle  of  Thermopylae  the  inhabitants  of  Carye 
sided  with  the  Persians.  But  the  victorious  Greeks, 
to  punish  them,  put  the  men  to  death  and  sold  the 
women  into  slavery.  As  a  constant  reminder  of 
the  event  female  figures  were  carved  as  supports  of 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

the  temple.  If  this  burden-bearer  was  intended  to 
degrade  womanhood,  the  sculptor  certainly  has 
frustrated  the  intent  Could  anything  express 
greater  ease  of  bearing  or  queenliness  of  manner 
than  this  superb  maiden  in  the  full  bloom  of  young 
womanhood?  The  burden  she  bears  rests  on  her 
head  as  lightly  as  a  royal  crown.  Her  ample 
drapery,  falling  in  large,  simple  folds,  suggests  the 
stability  of  a  marble  column.  Not  simple  burden- 
bearers  are  these  maidens  of  the  Erechtheum,  but 
devoted  guardians  of  the  temple  of  their  goddess. 

The  Mausoleum  of  Halicarnassos  and  the  Taj 
Mahal  at  Agra  stand  as  the  acme  of  artistic  memo- 
rials erected  in  honour  of  loved  ones — the  former 
for  a  husband  the  latter  for  a  wife.  The  statue 
of  "Mausolos"  (Fig.  145)  gives  us  some  concep- 
tion of  the  man  who  inspired  such  depths  of  love 
in  Artimisia  his  wife.  She  not  only  built  this 
monument  to  him,  that  the  ancients  called  one  of 
the  wonders  of  the  world,  but,  story  says,  "drank 
of  his  ashes  that  she  herself  might  be  his  tomb." 
Marred  and  broken  as  it  is,  the  statue  holds  us 
with  its  calm  dignity.  The  fitting  words  of  Mauso- 
los' shade,  given  in  Lucian's  decalogue,  certainly 
describes  the  statue.  "I  was  a  tall,  handsome  man, 
and  formidable  in  war,"  it  says.  This  stupendous 
masterpiece  to  Mausolos  has  given  its  name  to  all 
like  monuments  for  more  than  two  millenniums. 

Mausolos,  a  prince  of  Caria,  who  died  in  353 
[188] 


LONDON 

B.  C.,  married  his  own  sister  Artimisia.  For  twen- 
ty-four years  he  ruled  southwestern  Asia,  and  tak- 
ing the  Greek  town  of  Halicarnassos  as  his  capital, 
laid  out,  in  a  semicircle  along  the  bay,  one  of  the 
most  magnificent  cities  of  the  ancient  world.  The 
mausoleum  probably  stood  at  the  centre  of  the 
great  city,  a  spot  chosen  by  Mausolos  and  dedi- 
cated to  him  by  his  devoted  wife  and  sister.  The 
history  of  the  destruction  of  the  great  masterpiece 
is  a  repetition  of  what  so  often  happened  to  the 
ancient  marvels  of  the  art  world. 

It  was  not  until  1857,  when  Professor  Newton 
began  his  systematic  excavations,  that  the  real  mag- 
nificence of  the  tomb  was  realised.  Even  now  it  is 
hard  to  comprehend  its  bigness  from  the  fragmen- 
tary marbles  in  the  British  Museum.  We  must 
remember  that  much  of  the  tomb  still  remains 
buried  on  the  ancient  original  site,  also  that  a  large 
number  of  the  marbles  were  built  into  the  walls  of 
a  palace  at  Budrun  in  the  fourteenth  century  and 
are  there  to-day,  and  that  many  of  the  sculptures 
are  buried  in  the  museum  at  Constantinople  where 
they  are  quite  as  inaccessible  as  the  unexcavated  at 
Halicarnassos. 

When  Professor  Newton  uncovered  slabs  of  the 
Amazon  frieze,  about  eighty  in  number,  he  found 
them  beautifully  finished  and  highly  coloured — the 
background  an  ultramarine,  the  flesh  tints  a  dull  red 
and  the  drapery  vermilion — which  indicates  that 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

the  whole  frieze  of  about  four  hundred  feet  was  a 
brilliant  band  of  exquisite  colour  and  finish  circling 
the  base  of  the  Mausoleum.  The  slab  of  "The 
Amazons  Fighting"  (Fig.  146), where  two  of  the 
female  warriors  are  getting  the  best  of  their  foes, 
is  delicious  in  its  feminism.  Could  anything  be 
more  like  a  woman  than  the  tempestuous  onslaught 
of  these  two?  These  are  out  to  win  and  they  stop 
at  no  tactics,  however  irregular,  to  accomplish  their 
purpose.  Look  at  the  one  sitting  backward  on 
her  war  horse!  She  is  perfectly  unconscious  of 
fear;  her  left  leg  clings  to  her  mount  as  though 
it  were  a  part  of  the  horse,  and  the  force  of  the 
right  knee  is  simply  tremendous  in  its  purchase. 
And  what  an  exquisite  body  she  has!  The  other 
Amazon  grabs  the  protecting  shield  of  her  oppo- 
nent with  her  left  hand  and  with  the  right  arm 
uplifted  is  ready  to  strike  across  her  own  arm  at  the 
unprotected  foe.  Unafraid,  undaunted  and  often 
unreasoning  in  their  mode  of  warfare,  these  superb 
women  fight  for  their  rights.  Never  for  one  mo- 
ment does  the  sculptor  lose  sight  of  their  exquisitely 
formed  bodies  and  their  tremendous  courage. 

The  Amazon  frieze  is  of  coarse-grained  Asia 
Minor  marble  and  the  artistic  quality  of  the  work 
is  very  unequal.  Athenian  sculptors  decorated  it 
and,  according  to  Pliny,  Scopas  carved  the  east, 
Leochares  the  west,  Bryaxis  the  north,  Timotheos 
the  south,  and  Pythios  the  quadriga  at  the  summit 

[  190] 


146.]  Amazons  Fighting.     Mausoleum  Frieze.     British  Museum,  London. 


147.     Charioteer  from  Small 
Frieze.    British  Museum, 
London. 


148.      Nereid  or  Sea-Nymph  from 

Xanthos.     British  Museum, 

London. 


LONDON 

where  Mausolos  stands.  The  figure  beside  him 
may  be  Artemisia,  though  some  critics  believe  it 
is  a  goddess  conducting  the  hero  to  immortality. 
Pliny  also  adds,  "The  rivalry  of  the  different  hands 
was  evident." 

A  second  frieze  of  the  Mausoleum,  the  conflict 
of  the  Lapiths  and  Centaurs,  has  but  two  frag- 
ments in  the  British  Museum  and  these  are  too 
meagre  for  definite  examination.  Then  came  a 
third  frieze  which  represented  a  chariot  race, 
doubtless  a  vivid  picture  of  the  funeral  rites  of 
Mausolos.  The  most  beautiful  bit  of  this  frieze 
is  the  "Charioteer"  (Fig.  147),  placed  low  on 
the  wall  in  the  Museum  so  we  can  examine  his 
face.  The  finer  marble  and  the  delicate  finish 
point  to  the  famous  Scopas  himself.  Certainly 
nothing  could  be  more  exquisite  than  the  eagerness 
of  the  slender  boyish  figure  bending  to  the  flying 
steeds  while  urging  them  on  with  caressing  voice 
and  gesture.  The  long,  flowing  robe,  common  to 
the  ancient  charioteer,  floats  out  behind,  completing 
the  rhythm  of  the  rushing  horses  with  the  balanc- 
ing force  of  the  youth  between. 

At  the  head  of  the  steps  out  of  the  Mausoleum 
room  is  the  "Nereid"  or  "Sea-Nymph,"  from 
Xanthos  (Fig.  148).  She  is  one  of  a  number  of 
statues  that  once  adorned  the  tomb  of  a  rich  satrap 
of  Lykia,  Asia  Minor.  The  monument  once 
crowned  a  hill  at  Xanthos  (a  town  of  Lykia) 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

where  the  high  base  is  still  in  situ.  The  restored 
building  in  the  same  room,  surrounded  by  Ionic 
columns  with  a  central  tomb  chamber,  gives  some 
idea  of  the  beauty  of  the  original  monument  about 
the  year  370  B.  C.,  when  it  was  finished. 

The  light,  airy,  swift  moving  Nereids  have  given 
their  name  to  the  tomb.  They  originally  stood 
between  the  columns  and  may  have  represented 
the  sea-breezes.  At  least  they  seemed  poised  in 
mid-air  and  only  held  to  earth  by  some  persistent 
water  animal  clinging  to  their  flying  garments. 

The  Nereids  were  the  daughters,  fifty  of  them, 
of  Nereus  and  Doris.  Thetis,  one  of  the  daugh- 
ters, was  very  beautiful,  and  as  usual  Zeus  fell 
in  love  with  her  and  sought  her  in  marriage.  But 
when  he  learned  from  Prometheus,  the  Titan,  that 
Thetis*  son  would  be  greater  than  his  father,  Zeus 
decreed  that  she  should  marry  a  mortal.  At  last 
Peleus,  aided  by  the  Centaur  Chiron,  won  the  god- 
dess Thetis,  and  their  son  was  the  renowned  Achil- 
les. Possibly  the  dainty  maiden  in  the  illustration 
as  Thetis  herself.  The  ancient  belief  that  the 
Nereids  were  connected  with  the  Isles  of  the  Blest, 
the  home  of  departed  souls,  explains  why  they  are 
pictured  on  a  tomb ;  and  remembering  that  Thetis 
conducted  Achilles  to  these  isles  to  become  im- 
mortal, it  would  not  t>e  strange  for  her  to  accom- 
pany a  satrap's  soul  to  its  future  home. 

That  the  Nikians  must  have  had  some  intima- 
[192] 


LONDON 

tions  of  immortality  is  again  shown  in  the  so-called 
Harpy  Monument  from  Xanthos,  in  the  Archaic 
Greek  room.  In  the  "Frieze  of  the  Harpy  Tomb" 
(Fig.  149)  those  curious  creatures  with  egg-shaped 
bodies  are  supposed  to  be  the  conductors  of  souls 
in  the  form  of  little  children.  Many  and  varied 
are  the  explanations  of  the  strange  beings  on  these 
reliefs.  At  one  time  the  winged,  oval-bodied  fe- 
males were  called  Harpies  (snatchers),  hence  the 
name  of  the  tomb;  but  their  mild,  inoffensive  faces 
and  caressing  ways  do  not  fit  the  disgusting  crea- 
tures that  carried  off  and  defiled  everything  they 
touched. 

As  the  town  of  Xanthos  was  nearly  destroyed  by 
the  Persians  in  546  B.  C.,  the  Harpy  tombs  were 
probably  made  earlier  than  that  date. 

Another  interesting  relief  in  this  room  is  the 
"Frieze  of  Cocks  and  Hens"  (Fig.  150).  We 
recognise  at  once  the  hand  of  the  genre  artist,  who 
has  portrayed  nature  first  hand.  He  has  given 
us  a  common  every-day  scene  of  the  barn  yard, 
and  has  portrayed  it  with  the  vivid  touch  of  the 
Dutch  genre  painters  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
These  bits  of  nature  study  that  flash  out  at  us 
from  among  stiff  archaic  sculptures  are  delicious 
in  their  quaint  realism. 

In  the  room  with  the  Lykian  friezes  is  a  bronze 
statue  of  "Marsyas"  (Fig.  151),  found  at  the 
seaport  city  of  Patras,  Greece.  This  statue  is 

[193] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

scarcely  more  than  two  feet  high  and,  like  the 
original  Myron  statues,  has  the  attitude  of  disap- 
pointment and  even  fear.  You  will  remember 
that  Athena,  displeased  that  Marsyas  picked  up 
the  discarded  flute  and  made  music  on  it,  appeared 
before  him,  which  caused  his  sudden  start  of  fright. 
This  bronze  Marsyas  and  the  marble  Marsyas,  in 
the  Lateran  (see  Fig.  51),  give  some  idea  of  what 
the  beauty  of  Myron's  originals  must  have  been. 
Then,  too,  figures  of  Athena  and  Marsyas  have 
been  found  on  an  Athenian  coin,  a  vase,  and  a  re- 
lief, which  seem  to  verify  Pliny's  mention  of  such 
a  group  by  Myron. 

One  of  the  most  charming  bits  of  realism  in  the 
British  Museum  is  "The  Boy  Extracting  a  Thorn 
from  his  Foot"  (Fig.  152) .  Is  it  possible  that  the 
little  fellow  is  only  marble  ?  So  real  are  his  efforts 
that  we  listen  for  "ouch"  to  come  from  his  open 
lips,  as  he  probes  deep  for  the  offending  thorn. 
We  love  him,  this  homely  tousle-headed  peasant 
boy !  It  was  only  a  moment  ago  that  he  was  enter- 
taining us  with  circling  hand-springs,  while  tor- 
menting us  for  "pourboire" !  How  wonderfully 
every  muscle  swells  under  the  strain  of  his  position 
and  how  perfectly  at  ease  is  the  doubled-up  body ! 
Only  a  vigourous,  naturally  developed  child  could 
twist  his  legs  with  the  bottom  of  the  foot  turned 
upward.  The  sculptor,  whoever  he  was,  not  only 
saw  this  boy,  but  himself  felt  the  pricking  of  the 

[  194] 


o  o 

a 


LONDON 

thorn.  He  understood  boy  life  and  had  sympathy 
for  the  boy  in  trouble.  This  boy  belongs  to  no 
special  country  or  time,  though  the  original  of  the 
statue  was  probably  made  in  the  Hellenistic  age  of 
Greek  art.  But  where  does  not  the  barefoot  boy 
get  the  troublesome  thorn  in  his  foot?  and  where 
was  it  ever  extracted  more  easily? 


[195] 


CHAPTER   XXI 

LONDON— BRITISH  MUSEUM,  EGYP- 
TIAN AND  ASSYRIAN  SCULPTURE 

'  I AHE  tremendous  size  of  Egyptian  sculpture  in 
-••  the  British  Museum,  and  the  overwhelming 
number  of  examples,  and  the  thousands  of  years 
represented  are  so  overpowering  that  our  minds 
refuse  to  grasp  the  significance  of  the  collection. 
We  walk  among  the  colossal  statues  like  pigmies 
among  giants.  We  wonder  if  a  people  who  con- 
ceived such  tremendous  works  of  art  could  ever 
give  thought  to  the  individual.  But  stop  a  moment 
and  look  at  the  "Book  of  the  Dead,"  in  a  case 
in  the  centre  of  the  gallery.  In  one  chapter  it 
reads:  "I  have  given  bread  to  the  hungry.  I  have 
given  water  to  the  thirsty.  I  have  given  clothes 
to  the  naked."  Could  anything  be  more  Christian- 
like?  and  yet  part  of  the  "Book  of  the  Dead" 
dates  back  to  the  First  Dynasty  about  4400  B.  C. 
The  "Rosetta  Stone,"  the  wonderful  key  to  the 
Egyptian  language,  is  near  by. 

The  religion  of  the  Egyptians  was  polytheistic, 
yet  they  believed  in  God  and  in  a  future  state. 
At  death  the  soul,  the  Ba,  left  the  body  only  tern- 


LONDON 

porarily,  hence  the  latter  must  be  preserved  intact. 
Also  a  likeness  of  the  deceased  and  familiar  do- 
mestic scenes  must  be  in  the  tomb  chamber  to  guide 
the  soul  back  to  its  old  home.  Naturally  size  and 
durability  became  the  distinguishing  characteris- 
tics of  the  statues  and  monuments  of  this  people 
of  the  Nile. 

The  fact  that  the  soul,  or  Ba,  must  be  able  to 
recognise  its  earth  body  when  it  returned  had  great 
influence  on  the  portrait  sculpture  of  ancient  Egypt. 
Even  statues  found  in  the  oldest  mastaba  tombs 
are  portraits  of  marvellous  life-like  characteristics. 
Many  of  these  statues  were  made  of  the  hardest 
and  most  obdurate  material,  yet  the  sculptor  has 
worked  out  the  features,  slightly  emphasising  this 
peculiarity  or  that,  until  we  feel  the  character  of 
the  man  within  the  stone  image. 

Then,  too,  certain  conventional  ideals  grew  up 
that  stood  for  special  individuals  and  these  were 
worked  into  statues  and  often  the  two,  the  portrait 
and  the  conventional,  were  put  into  the  same  tomb 
and  both  were  equally  true  to  the  same  man.  The 
work  of  the  early  artists  undoubtedly  gives  us  the 
truest  picture  of  the  Old  Kingdom  of  Egypt.  M. 
George  Perrot,  a  classical  archaeologist,  says  of 
these  old  sculptors,  "It  must  be  acknowledged  that 
they  produced  works  which  are  not  to  be  surpassed 
in  their  way  by  the  greatest  portraits  of  Modern 
Europe." 

[197] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

If  you  have  time,  go  upstairs  to  the  third  Egyp- 
tian room,  and  in  table  case  L  look  at  a  tiny  "Ivory 
Figure  of  a  King,"  possibly  of  the  First  Dynasty. 
It  is  a  very  beautiful  bit  of  carved  ivory,  with  won- 
derful portrait  qualities.  That  the  figure  represents 
an  old  man  is  very  forcibly  told  by  his  trembling 
grasp  on  the  heavy  checkered  garment  wrapped 
around  his  stooped  shoulders.  One  can  fairly  see 
him  shiver  under  the  warm  cloak. 

To  really  comprehend  the  gigantic  stone  statues 
in  the  main  gallery  we  must  study  some  particular 
one  and  learn  a  little  of  the  life  story  of  the  per- 
son represented.  Let  us  take  this  splendid  bust 
of  "Thothmes  III"  (Fig.  153),  of  the  Eighteenth 
Dynasty,  about  1550  B.  C.  It  represents  the  great- 
est of  all  the  kings  of  Egypt.  Thothmes  III  was 
the  son  of  Thothmes  I  and  an  obscure  concubine 
named  Isis.  He,  like  his  father  before  him,  pro- 
cured the  throne  of  Egypt  through  his  wife  Hat- 
shepset.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Thothmes  I  and 
Ahmose,  the  queen  who  had  the  real  title  to  the 
throne.  To  make  matters  worse  for  Thothmes  III, 
he  was  forced  to  acknowledge  the  co-regency  of 
Hatshepset,  his  wife  and  half  sister  in  one.  His 
position  at  court  was  not  a  pleasant  one;  in  fact  he 
was  pushed  into  the  background  until  he  became 
a  mere  nonentity  under  petticoat  rule.  This  state 
of  affairs  lasted  for  twenty-one  years,  when  Hat- 
shepset died. 


LONDON 

Queen  Hatshepset  was  a  powerful  ruler,  and  the 
first  great  woman  recorded  in  history.  She  erected 
wonderful  monuments,  a  beautiful  temple  to  her- 
self at  Der  el-Bahri  and  two  obelisks  in  her  father's 
hall  at  Karnak,  but  she  was  a  misfortune  to  Egypt, 
for  she  neglected  the  foreign  power  of  the  country 
in  Asia  and  Syria. 

Thothmes  III  was  not  kind  to  the  memory  of 
Hatshepset,  and  who  could  blame  him!  He  at 
once  had  her  name  and  figure  hacked  out  of  all 
the  temples  and  buildings  she  had  erected  from  the 
Delta  to  the  Cataracts,  and  around  the  base  of  the 
obelisks  at  Karnak  he  had  a  casing  made  to  cover 
her  name  and  the  record  of  her  building  them. 
Probably  her  Ba  is  still  looking  for  its  home  and 
her  Ka  (double)  is  wandering  to  find  its  own  like- 
ness. 

Now  Thothmes  was  ready  to  rule  Egypt  and 
gain  the  country's  waning  power  in  Asia  and  Syria. 
For  thirty-two  years  he  went  "forth  at  the  head  of 
his  army  himself,  showing  the  way  by  his  foot- 
steps." Soon  he  controlled  all  Palestine  as  far 
north  as  the  southern  end  of  Lebanon  and  as  far 
inland  as  Damascus,  and  even  far-off  Babylon 
sought  his  good  will.  At  last  he  "crossed  the 
great  Bend  of  Naharin  (the  Euphrates)  with 
might  and  with  victory  at  the  head  of  his  army." 
At  this  time  the  Hittites  first  appeared  on  the  stage 
of  history.  So  great  became  the  name  of  Thoth- 

[  199] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

mes  III  that  "centuries  after  his  empire  had  crum- 
bled to  pieces  it  was  placed  on  amulets  as  a  word  of 
power."  He  reigned  alone  thirty-two  years. 

The  Nineteenth  Dynasty  was  opened  by  Ram- 
eses I,  about  1315  B.  C.,  some  two  hundred  years 
after  Thothmes  III.  Rameses  was  an  old  man, 
and  in  two  years  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Set!  I,  who  reigned  twenty  years.  At  his  death  his 
younger  son,  Rameses  II,  brushed  aside  the  real 
heir  and  ascended  the  throne.  This  act  alone  char- 
acterises his  whole  life.  Look  into  the  face  of 
this  bust  of  "Rameses  II"  (Fig.  154)  and  see  how 
selfish  ambition  and  conceit  are  written  on  every 
feature.  The  bust  is  from  one  of  the  pair  of 
statues  that  stood  in  the  "Ramesseum"  at  Thebes. 
Rameses  II  was  the  Sesostris  of  the  Greek  writers 
and  the  Pharaoh  of  the  Oppression.  He  reigned 
sixty-seven  years  and  died  when  about  one  hundred 
years  old.  He  is  said  to  have  had  one  hundred 
sons  and  fifty-one  daughters,  and  wives  too  nu- 
merous to  mention. 

That  Rameses  II  was  a  great  builder  is  true, 
but  it  is  equally  true  that  he  did  not  build  every- 
thing on  which  is  found  his  name.  Nothing  seems 
to  have  pleased  him  so  well  as  to  see  his  name  in 
public  places,  consequently  no  repairs,  however 
small,  that  he  had  made  on  a  monument  or  temple 
prevented  him  from  appropriating  the  whole  work 
as  his  own.  Few,  very  few,  are  the  buildings  in 
[  200  ] 


LONDON 

Egypt  where  his  name  does  not  appear  on  some 
chamber,  hall  or  column. 

But  Rameses  II  really  did  erect  some  wonderful 
buildings  himself.  The  rock-hewn  temple  of  Abu- 
Simbel  alone  was  a  marvel  of  size  and  magnificence. 
In  front  of  this  temple  are  four  colossal  statues  of 
the  king,  each  ninety  feet  in  height.  And  again 
at  Thebes  he  built  the  "Ramesseum,"  that  Strabo 
called  the  "Memnonium,"  One  of  the  statues 
now  lying  in  fragments  on  the  original  site  weighs 
one  thousand  tons.  These  monolithic  statues  of 
Rameses  II  are  the  greatest  ever  made.  The  one 
at  Tanis  was  of  a  single  block  weighing  nine  hun- 
dred tons. 

A  very  curious  large  carved  stone  in  the  Egyp- 
tian collection  is  a  huge  black  "Scarab,"  the  scara- 
baeid  beetle  or  Ateuchus  sacer.  This  strange  ani- 
mal was  worshipped  by  the  ancient  Egyptians  as 
representing  fertility  and  the  resurrection.  The 
Egyptian  scarabs  are  carved  in  the  shape  of  a  beetle. 
The  back  of  the  insect  is  exactly  reproduced;  the 
legs,  seen  on  the  sides,  are  drawn  under  the  shell- 
like  wings  and  the  underside  is  engraved  like  a 
seal.  The  scarab  is  of  all  sizes  and  carved  in  all 
kinds  of  material,  from  the  semi-precious  stones 
to  baked  clay.  They  were  placed  in  the  mummy 
cases  of  the  dead. 

It  is  impossible  to  trace  Babylonian  and  Assyrian 

[201] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE    TO    SEE 

history  back  of  two  thousand  years  B.  C.  The 
origin  of  the  old  Babylonian  empire  is  still  wrapped 
in  mystery.  In  Genesis  x.  8-n,  we  read  that 
Nimroud  came  into  the  country  and  built  Babel 
(Babylon)  on  the  Euphrates.  Some  authorities 
believe  that  he  was  a  Sumarian  from  Central  Asia. 
At  any  rate  these  invaders  amalgamated  with  the 
natives,  and  gradually  an  empire  was  formed  that 
pushed  its  way  to  the  Tigris,  and  Ashur  built 
the  city  of  Nineveh. 

About  1700  B.  C.  Assyria  became  a  separate 
kingdom,  and  from  that  time  until  the  Persian  rule 
the  two  nations,  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  were  con- 
stantly at  war  for  supremacy — the  latter  usually 
victorious.  The  sculpture  collected  in  the  British 
Museum  is  mostly  Assyrian. 

One  of  the  greatest  of  Assyrian  kings  was 
"Ashur-nasir-pal"  (Fig.  155).  He  was  a  con- 
queror, an  extensive  builder  and  an  art  promoter. 
He  ascended  the  throne  885  B.  C.  When  he 
moved  the  capital  from  Ashur  to  Nimroud  (  Calah 
of  the  Bible),  he  built  a  magnificent  palace  and 
decorated  it  with  most  elaborate  reliefs  of  domestic 
scenes,  religious  ceremonials  and  strange  animal 
monsters.  But  across  every  decoration  is  an  in- 
scription recounting  the  greatness  of  Ashur-nasir- 
pal,  the  king,  the  supreme  ruler,  the  head  and 
centre  of  all.  In  the  human-headed  monsters  ap- 
pear the  king's  own  likeness.  One  is  led  to  be~ 
[  202  ] 


la 

1 


II 

<1g 


s~'  o 

11 


LONDON 

lieve  that  uart  for  art's  sake"  was  secondary  to 
exploiting  the  greatness  of  the  king. 

The  small  statue  of  Ashur-nasir-pal,  of  our  il- 
lustration, is  specially  interesting  as  being  the  only 
Assyrian  royal  statue  made  in  the  round  ever  found 
perfect.  It  was  found  in  a  small  temple  to  Adar, 
one  of  the  war  gods,  and  still  stands  on  its  original 
limestone  base.  You  will  notice  that  the  form  of 
the  body  can  be  traced  under  the  drapery  and 
fringes  of  the  back,  yet  the  side  view  still  has  the 
appearance  of  relief-work.  The  sculptor  has  gone 
a  step  forward  in  setting  the  figure  free,  but  he 
has  neglected  to  remove  the  signs  of  his  former 
bondage. 

In  the  "Colossal  Lion"  (Fig.  156),  from  the 
portal  of  a  small  building  at  Nimroud,  is  also  an 
exception  in  Assyrian  sculpture  because  it  is  a  pure 
lion.  A  splendid  fellow  he  is  too !  As  a  guardian, 
nothing  could  surpass  him.  Who  would  dare  enter 
unbidden  with  those  yawning  jaws  and  glaring 
eyes  barring  the  way!  but  when  once  we  have 
passed  the  defiant  front,  how  different  is  our  im- 
pression of  him.  The  fifth  leg,  seen  only  from  the 
side  of  the  huge  figure,  shows  him  calmly  walking 
away,  as  though  his  work  were  done.  This  curious 
and  unusual  device  is  very  effective  and  gives  one 
the  impression  that  the  king  was  indeed  supreme 
in  his  own  empire,  but  must  be  guarded  from  foes 
without. 

[203] 


WHAT    SCULPTURE   TO    SEE 

It  was  doubtless  during  the  reign  of  Ashur-bani- 
pal,  683-620  B.  C,  that  "Nineveh  was  an  exceed- 
ing great  city  of  three  days'  journey."  Jonah  iii :  3. 
The  palace  walls  of  the  king  were  of  alabaster,  and 
on  them  were  pictured  in  low  relief  the  king's  hunt- 
ing expeditions.  From  his  own  words  we  read,  "I, 
Ashur-bani-pal,  king  of  hosts,  king  of  Assyria — 
slew  four  lions — and  I  poured  out  a  libation  over 
them."  One  relief  pictures  this  scene,  thus  veri- 
fying the  king's  word  picture.  Notice,  in  all  these 
hunting  scenes,  how  few  lines  are  used  to  portray 
the  figures  and  that  there  are  no  accessories  of  trees 
and  rocks,  yet  could  an  open  country  be  more  viv- 
idly pictured  than  is  done  in  the  racing  horses,  the 
fleeing  deer,  the  flying  birds,  and  the  closely  pur- 
sued lions? 

The  very  perfection  of  animal  portraiture  is 
reached  in  the  "Dying  Lioness"  (Fig.  157).  The 
sculptor  has  not  troubled  himself  to  perfect  bone, 
muscle  and  sinew,  but  he  has  sent  the  arrows 
through  the  animal's  very  centre  of  activity — the 
spinal  cord.  She  is  not  writhing  with  pain,  this 
matchless  creature,  but  is  snarling  with  rage.  She 
is  helpless.  The  sting  of  the  shoulder  wound  no 
doubt  goads  her  on,  but  it  is  the  heavy  helpless 
parts  dragging  on  her  powerful  fore  legs  that 
angers  her.  This  is  one  of  the  most  superb  animal 
portraits,  where  the  portrait  is  still  pure  animal,  in 
all  art.  One  wonders  if  Jonah  stood,  as  we  stand, 

[204] 


LONDON 

before  these  vivid  pictures  and  commented  on  their 
value  as  works  of  art! 

In  a  measure,  it  is  almost  absurd  to  turn  from 
these  Assyrian  animals,  so  perfectly  pictured  with 
a  few  simple  lines,  to  Landseer's  humanised 
"Lion"  (Fig.  158),  in  Trafalgar  Square.  There 
they  stand,  the  quadruple  one,  like  a  stationary 
compass  pointing  north,  south,  east  and  west. 

Landseer  struck  a  new  note  in  art  in  England, 
the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  by  going  to 
nature  for  his  subjects.  The  people  were  tired  of 
the  artificial  prettiness  of  the  later  portrait  paint- 
ers; an  artist  who  could  give  something  unusual 
was  welcomed  with  enthusiasm  and  Landseer  be- 
came the  idol  of  his  times.  What  an  opportunity 
to  guide  and  educate  the  popular  taste  for  real  art 
in  genre  subjects !  and  how  far  short  he  fell !  He 
modelled  splendid  animals,  if  only  he  had  treated 
them  as  animals  and  given  us  real  horses,  dogs 
and  lions.  But  no,  into  the  face  of  each  has  crept 
his  own  emotions  until  the  human  element  has 
smothered  the  real  animal. 

The  four  lions  guarding  the  base  of  the  Nelson 
shaft  are  magnificent  fellows  in  size  and  form,  but 
too  suggestive  of  the  limits  of  a  cage  for  active 
protectors  of  a  national  hero. 


[205] 


L'ENVOI 

It  is  with  real  regret  that  I  say  au  revoir  as 
our  little  trip  together  to  the  Sculpture  galleries 
of  Europe  closes.  You,  my  travelling  companions, 
now  know  that  it  has  required  great  self-restraint 
to  adhere  to  my  original  plan  of  noting  only  a  few 
masterpieces.  If,  however,  one-half  of  the  joy 
and  uplift  has  come  to  you  in  looking  at  the  few 
great  pieces  of  sculpture  pointed  out  that  has  come 
to  me  in  preparing  the  little  guide  I  shall  know 
that  this  book  is  not  in  vain. 

I  now  cordially  invite  you  and  your  friends  to 
consider  with  me,  next  year,  "What  Pictures  to  See 
in  America,"  and  then,  later,  I  hope  to  look  at 
architectural  masterpieces  in  Europe  with  you. 


[206] 


157.     Assyrian    Lioness.     From    Palace   at   Nineveh.     British    Museum, 

London. 


158.     Lion.     By  Lanclseer.     Trafalgar  Sqiiare,  London. 


INDEX 

A 

Achilles,  91,  192 
Actaeon,  152 
Agasias,  149 
Agrippa,  54,  69 
Agrippina,  69 
Aigina  Marbles,  124-127 
Alcamenes,  138,  149,  154,  155 
Alcestas,  178-179 

Alexander,  39,  58,  74,  75,  91,  132,  150,  179,  195 
Amaltha,  32 

Amazon,  30-32,  140,  141,  189-191 
Andromeda,  66,  67 
Angelo,  Michael,  21,  36,  50,  56,  62,  63,  77-80,  92,  94-99, 

101,  103,  104,  108,  160-162,  172 
An  tenor,  40 
Antiope,  34,  35 
Aphrodite,  22, 24-25, 42, 44, 45, 65-66,  70-71,  74,  89, 90, 

138,  145,  147,  149,  163 
Apollo,  42-44,  46,  82,  85,  87,  90, 102,  118,  127,  147,  148, 

151,  163,  178 
Apollonius,  34,  50,  90 
Arachne,  33-34 
Ares,  73,  74,  75,  154-155 
Argus,  27,  119 
Ariadne,  54,  55 

[207] 


INDEX 

Aristogeiton,  38-41 

Artemis,  31,  43,  50,  85,  140,  151,  152,  178,  179 
Artimisia,  188,  191 
Ashur-bani-pal,  204 
Ashur-nasir-pal,  202-203 
Atalanta,  50 

Athena,  24,  25,  32-34,  47,  49,  57,  82,  93,  118,  125,  126, 
127,  128,  139-140,  147,  148,  175,  180-186,  187,  194 
Attala,  King,  30,  32,  73 

B 

Bacchus,  see  Dionysos 
Baptistry  Gates,  104-111 
Bartolome,  Albert,  175 
Barye,  Antoine,  166-171 
Bellini,  120 
Boethos,  58,  133 
Bologna,  Giovanni  da,  104 
Book  of  the  Dead,  196 
Botticelli,  71,  95 
Bronze  Horses,  115-116 
Brunelleschi,  104,  105 

C 

Caesar,  38,  60,  149,  162 

Caligula,  38,  42,  69 

Calliteles,  126 

Candlestick,  Seven-branched,  80-8 1 

Canova,  61,  163,  164 

Caravaggio,  128 

Carrey,  180,  184 


INDEX 

Caryatid,  187-188 

Cellini,  92,  103,  104 

Centaur,  166,  167,  185-186,  191,  192 

Cephissus,  184 

Ceres,  see  Demeter 

Chapu,  164-165 

Cicero,  53,  67,  68 

Cleomenes,  90 

Cnidus,  25,  44,  45,  47,  66,  89,  177,  178 

Colleoni,  117-118,  119 

Credi,  114 

Cretius,  40,  41 

Cronus,  48 

Cupid,  22-24,  45>  46,  74>  82,  163,  164 


Danae,  93 

Dante,  173 

David,  94-96,  1 02,  103 

Delia  Porta,  36,  68 

Delphi,  43 

Demeter,  177-178,  183 

Demosthenes,  59-60 

Diana,  see  Artemis 

Dionysos,  29,  55, 67, 68, 69,  83, 98, 99, 130-13 1, 136-138, 

153,  155-156 
Dirce,  Queen,  34-35 
Discord,  25 

Discus  Thrower,  52,  131 

Donatello,  90,  94,  100-103,  107,  in,  112,  162,  171 
Dubois,  Paul,  171 

[209] 


INDEX 
E 


Echo,  28 

Eirene,  129 

Elgin,  Lord,  181,  184-185 

Endymion,  66 

Erechtheum,  187-188 

Eros,  see  Cupid 

F 

Faun,  64-65,  132,  152 

Flora,  25-26 

Forum,  81,  82 

Foundling  Hospital,  112,  113 


Galatian,  43,  61,  63-64,  72-73 

Ganymede,  53-54 

George,  Saint,  100-103 

Germanicus,  69 

Ghiberti,  104-110 

Giotto,  in,  112 

Glycon,  36 

Goethe,  74 

Gorgon,  42,  67,  126 

H 

Harmodios,  38-41 
Harpies,  193 
Hatshepset,  198-200 
Hebe,  54 

[210] 


INDEX 

Helios,  44 

Hellenistic  Period,  see  Alexander 

Hera,  see  Juno 

Herculaneum,  21,  26,  29,  38 

Hercules,  36,  37,  50,  51,  54 

Hermes,  26,  27,  46,  47,  65,  68,  93,  104,  118,  119,  153, 

157-158,  178,  179 
Herodotus,  179 
Hipparchus,  40 
Hippias,  40-41 
Hittites,  31,  199 
Homer,  37-38,  54,  74,  142,  187 
Houdon,  1 66 
Hugo,  Victor,  174,  175 

I 

lo,  27 

J 

Joan  of  Arc,  164-166 

Jonah,  204-205 

Jove,  see  Zeus 

Julius  II.,  77,  98 

Juno,  24,  25,  27,  54,  74,  75,  156 

Jupiter,  see  Zeus 

K 

Kephisodotes,  129,  130 

L 

Landseer,  205 
Laocoon,  55-57 

[211] 


INDEX 

Lapith,  166-167,  185-186,  191 

Latona,  43,  85-87 

Leochares,  53,  190 

Leopardi,  119 

Lilith,  122 

Loredano,  120 

Lucian,  41,  44,  48,  52,  188 

Lycurgus,  83 

Lycus,  35 

Lysippus,  26,  54,  74,  141 

M 

Marceaux,  Saint,  172 

Marcus,  Aurelius,  61-62 

Mars,  see  Ares 

Marsyas,  82,  90,  91,  131,  143,  150,  193,  194 

Masaccio,  103 

Mausolos,  188-191 

Medici,  47,  87,  89,  90,  92,  96-98,  163,  175 

Medusa,  32,  71-72,  92,  93,  126,  127-128,  148,  i53~I54 

Meleager,  49,  50 

Mercury,  see  Hermes 

Metis,  48 

Midas,  130,  131 

Minerva,  see  Athena 

Moses,  77-78 

Myron,  52-53,  83,  131,  143,  194 

N 

Napoleon,  38,  116,  163 
Narcissus,  28,  127,  172 

[212] 


INDEX 

Neptune,  33,  34,  57,  180,  183 

Nereid,  191-192 

Nero,  42,  76,  90,  115 

Nesiotes,  40,  41 

Nicolo,  1 20 

Nike,  144-145,  153 

Nile,  58,  59,  60,  163 

Niobe,  49,  61,  85-89,  91,  127,  154 

Notre  Dame,  174-175 

o 

Onatas,  125,  126 

P 

Paedagog,  88-89,  154 

Pallas,  see  Athena 

Paris,  25 

Parthenon,  47, 139, 147, 158-159, 167, 177, 180-186, 187 

Pausanias,  30, 40,  41,  47,  49,  129,  134,  138, 139,  180,  184 

Peleus,  25 

Pere-Lachaise,  175-176 

Pergamon,  21,  30,  31,  32,  63-64,  72,  73,  91,134-140, 

142,  149,  150 
Pericles,  83,  180 
Perrot,  197 

Persephone,  177-179,  183 
Perseus,  66-67,  92>  93  >  IO2>  l63 
Phidias,  41,  47,  48,  52,  71, 130,  133,  138-140,  147, 148, 

158,  160,  175,  180-186 
Phryne,  45-47,  147 
Pisano,  iio-in 
Pisistratus,  40-41 

[213] 


INDEX 

Plato,  29,  68 

Pliny,  35,  41,  46,  53,  56,  58,  66,  140,  190,  191,  194 

Plutos,  129 

Polycletos,  36,  59,  140,  141 

Pompeii,  21,  26 

Poseidon,  see  Neptune 

Praxiteles,  21,  25,  39,  44-47,  49,  61,  64,  65,  66,  99,  102, 

129,  130,  133,  147,  151,  155-156 
Psyche,  21-24,  J63>  164 

R 

Rembrandt,  132 

Rameses,  200-202 

Remus,  67 

Rhea,  48 

Rizzo,  Antonio,  122,  123 

Robbia,  Delia,  112,  113 

Rodin,  Auguste,  21,  147,  166,  172-173 

Romulus,  67-68,  74 

Rude,  164 

S 

Samothrace,  144-145 
Sansovino,  118,  119 
Satyr,  see  Faun 
Scarab,  201 

Scopas,  49,  61,  66,  73,  85,  88,  190,  191 
Selene,  66,  136,  182 
Semele,  29 

Silenos,  68-69,  130-131,  155-156 
Socrates,  68 
Sophocles,  83,  84,  154 


INDEX 

T 

Thauricus,  34 
Theseus,  55,  183 
Thetis,  25,  192 
Thorwaldsen,  125,  127 
Thothmes,  198-200 
Tiberius,  54,  69 
Titus,  55,  80-82 
Torrigiani,  103 
Trojan,  25,  54,  57,  125,  155 

V 

Vasari,  105 

Venus,  see  Aphrodite 

Verrocchio,  113-114,  117-118 

Virgil,  67 

Voltaire,  166 

Vol  terra,  103 

Vulcan,  181 

W 

Winged  Lion,  120,  121 
Wolf,  67 

X 

Xerxes,  39,  40 

Z 

Zephyr,  22,  23 

Zeus,  24,  27,  29,  32,  33,  34,  43,  47-49,  54,  7I,  74)  75> 
93>  I34>  i35>  181,  192 

[215] 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DTTE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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